Harry Potter and the Veil of Memories
by swishandflick14
Summary: Sequel to The Silent Siege. Hogwarts is in an atmosphere of unusual calm. But this peace does not last for long. Soon, students begin to disappear: Muggleborns, squibs. And no one seems to remember them after they've gone. No one, that is, except forGinny
1. Changing Faces

**Chapter 1**

**Changing Faces**

There was just one wizard now guarding the door. He looked bored. Draco Malfoy knew from a memory that did not belong to him that his name was Goode, that he was the son of a brainless girl who had once been infatuated with him and his position as a prefect. But not him, Malfoy had to remind himself: Tom Riddle - Voldemort - those were his memories trapped inside Malfoy's head.

Trapped?

Malfoy fought back a sudden rush of panic that rose unbidden inside his mind and concentrated on letting the now pleasantly familiar thrill of power run back through his veins. How could he have forgotten so easily that all his life had been despair until that fateful night mere weeks ago when the Dark Lord had come to him in the night, entered his thoughts, and given him power and knowledge he could never before have imagined.

Malfoy continued to edge toward Goode when he felt his body start to tremble again. It was not as bad as it had been in the days just after the Dark Lord had first entered his mind but he would still have episodes from time to time, especially when he allowed himself to be overwhelmed by the energies and powers flowing through his body and mind like a powerful current.

Malfoy felt the inside of his robes cling to his sweat-soaked body but he forced himself to remain still and calm. He couldn't afford to lose control now. Even the slightest movement and Goode might notice him. It had been very easy so far - so easy Malfoy had frightened himself at his power - but if he was discovered before he was ready, Goode might have the chance to raise an alarm and all would be lost.

Malfoy carefully cast a silencing charm on the gap in the wall just in front of him. He then leapt as quietly as a cat and flattened himself against the far wall of the corridor. Goode looked thoughtfully for a moment near the spot that Malfoy had just left but then returned to his bored pacing. Having become used to the dark playing tricks on him, Goode scarcely paused to suspect that a real life bogeyman might be dodging his movements this time.

Malfoy crept slowly forward along the wall, mere inches away from the spot where Goode stood but still out of his line of sight. A memory triggered his feet to move without making a sound. Finally, Malfoy ran out of wall. The impatience of the part of him that was still the youthful Slytherin compelled him to strike at once but the patient experience of Lord Voldemort caused him to wait.

Goode walked lazily back across the opening where Malfoy stood, his wand raised. He did not even see him there. Malfoy waited calmly until he had paced back the length of the corridor and turned around to face him. He would not be sure afterwards why he had waited, why he had not struck Goode in the back as he had walked past unawares, except that the memory of Lord Voldemort had in that moment been visited with a sudden prideful hunger that Goode spend the last half-second of his existence in this world knowing exactly where his arrogant boredom had left him.

Goode squealed like a pig as he turned around and saw Malfoy standing directly in front of him. The squealing sound died quickly, however, in a flash of green light.

Malfoy stepped over the body and hesitated. Before his encounter with Lord Voldemort, he had never developed the magic to make the killing curse work. Even the previous year when he had twirled Potter around on his broomstick and felt the intoxicating strength that came from holding another person's life in his hands, he still had not killed. But on this night, in his march into the _sancta sanctorum_of the wizarding world, he had taken the lives of half a dozen wizards. With each death, Malfoy had found himself even more overwhelmed by his power. Yet there was a fear that Malfoy was still conscious enough of himself to realize - that with each killing, he grew closer to the annihilation of what he had left of himself.

A moment later, Malfoy dismissed these thoughts and stepped over Goode's body to reach the doorway that had haunted him so long, the one that the Dark Lord had unwittingly planted into so many of Harry Potter's nightmares two years before, the door that marked the entrance to the Department of Mysteries.

Malfoy had wasted precious time in hesitation after his killing of Goode and he was already angry with himself because of it. What if, because of his vacillation, someone came sooner than later to sound the alarm? He resolved not to waste any more precious time on indecision when he was so close to taking the first great step to achieving what he had desired so deeply for so long.

The door opened in front of Malfoy and he found himself in a round room ringed by several dark, handle-less doors. Almost immediately after he had closed the door behind him, the doors began to move around in a circle. While many visitors to the room in which he now found himself would have been utterly bewildered at this, Malfoy himself took a sharp left, marched to the nearest door, and pushed it open. This led straight into a wide, deep, rectangular-shaped room.

It was a room that had been meant for trials, the most hideous of all trials, the trials of those who had committed treason against wizard-kind in the days before the treasoners themselves had come to power in the wizarding world. Malfoy felt a heightened sense of excitement as he could still almost smell the fear of the awed spectators and, of course, the accused, as he awaited his judgment and sentence. It had been a time before wizards and witches had become ignorant and weak, a time when the mysteries of death had not yet been closed to them.

Malfoy walked toward the center of the room. As he approached the dais on which stood a crumbling stone archway that held in place a tattered veil, he could not help but experience some of the awe of his forbearers. Already blowing as if directed by an unseen breeze, the veil began to flutter more insistently with every step that Malfoy took toward it, almost as though it could sense the shape of its new destiny. Malfoy imagined that he could hear the voices he had been told about calling to him from the other side but it was no matter that he couldn't. In the end, the fate of the veil and everything inside it was his.

Malfoy reached the foot of the dais. This was near enough. His face began to glisten with anxious perspiration again as he took out his wand and aimed it at the center of the veil, uttering an ancient charm from a language that had not been spoken aloud in hundreds of years.

At first, it seemed that nothing would happen and the part of Draco Malfoy that was very much himself began to feel a combination of impatience and despair. But then the veil started to flutter more urgently and the voices it had first denied to Malfoy began to emerge first as frightened whispers, then as contentious rebuke, and finally as terrified song. The veil began to blow harder and harder, buffeted about in a windless storm. A fiery orange triangle grew out from its center, hissed to its edges, and finally engulfed the veil and the archway completely. Fear began to rise up in Malfoy at what he had been made to unleash. He wanted desperately to step backwards, away from the searing heat of the triangle and the cacophony of voices now screaming at him from beyond the veil. But an even more demanding voice from inside Malfoy's head forced him to stay put, the voice that reminded him that he had made an agreement, one that would give him everything he had ever wanted. There was nothing that should make him step back now.

As soon as Malfoy had stomached himself to concur to the voice's wishes, however, agreement no longer seemed enough. The voice inside his head began to grow in pitch and fervor as though in synchrony with the chorus of voices surrounding him outside. Malfoy sensed its impatience: the voice did not only want him to follow its wishes; it wanted total and unflinching subservience; more than that, it wanted his will. Finally, just as Malfoy was sure the fiery triangle would singe every cell on his skin, Lord Voldemort opened his arms and cried homage to the god that would free him from the body of this impetuous child; the icon of his people's deliverance; the vehicle of his final flight from death itself...

* * *

Ronald Weasley shot a curious sidelong glance at the headline of the newspaper that his girlfriend Hermione Granger was reading on the seat beside him as they rode the Hogwarts Express together to school in their seventh and final year. He felt his impatience rise and fall in his chest like a rolling nausea. He fought hard to control himself; he did not want the rest of a very long train journey to become unpleasant and he knew that if he did not keep himself in check, it was a very real possibility. He just had to -

"'_Six disappear at Ministry; Department of Magical Law Enforcement Refuses to Comment Further,'"_read Hermione.

"Oh," said Ron, trying to sound surprised that Hermione had spoken up.

Hermione put down her paper and looked across from him with a shrewd expression that greatly disquieted Ron.

"You were looking a little anxious," she said diplomatically. "I was sure you weren't rushing me through my paper just so that we could play Exploding Snap sooner so I was forced to assume that you were merely curious about the article I was reading."

"Er, right, yeah."

"What else does it say, Hermione?" asked Harry, who was sitting across from his two best friends playing a game of tarot cards with his girlfriend Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, and looking far less impatient about the beginning of Exploding Snap.

Ignoring a rather nasty look that Ron had shot over in Harry's direction, Hermione began to recite the beginning paragraphs of the article:

"'_The Department of Magical Law Enforcement now acknowledges that the disappearance of six wizards working within the Ministry of Magic early last month may have been the work of dark wizards or witches and not connected with an errant vanishing hex as was earlier claimed. When pressed on the matter, Department of Magical Law Enforcement spokeswitch Bettunia Bettles declined comment, saying that__the__incident was an internal matter.__Amelia Bones,__recently__retired head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and_The Daily Prophet's _newly appointed consultant on Ministry legal affairs suggests that this cover-up is likely another attempt by the scandal-ridden administration of Cornelius Fudge to conceal a potentially dangerous breach of security. Bones noted that the administration, which only last week saw the forced resignation of yet another of its senior members, Undersecretary__Dolores Umbridge, has still yet to deliver on its promise of greater transparency. But Bettles insisted that "while it cannot be denied that several of You-Know-Who's followers might still be at large, it is far too early to jump to conclusions. And I for one believe that our jobs would be made far easier if the_Prophet_restrained itself from diverting attention away from much more urgent dangers facing the wizarding community."'"_

"What - more urgent than the Death Eaters?" commented Ron.

Hermione continued to read.

"'_Bettles was no doubt referring to the Ministry's recent "War on__Miscreant__Creatures" campaign, begun earlier this summer by Minister Fudge in response to allegations that goblins, werewolves, and giants may have developed close ties to You-Know-Who during his recent reappearance.'"_

"Stop!" demanded Harry. "I'm getting a headache already."

"You're the one who asked." Hermione shrugged. "At least he doesn't seem to be leaning on the _Prophet_ this time or not so successfully, at any rate."

"I reckon Fudge will be out of office soon," remarked Ron. "Still, this Bettles witch has got a bit of a point, can't go very well blaming every disappearance on Death Eaters; after all, there aren't many more of them left around, are there?"

"I don't know," said Hermione thoughtfully. "I don't think it would do to be completely off our guard, though."

"We've only just done in You-Know-Who," complained Ron. "And you want us to worry about more Death Eaters?"

"I didn't say that _you_ should worry, Ron. I just hope that there are some people out there - such as in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement - who _are_ worrying. _You_ should be worrying about how you are going to pass a very difficult set of N.E.."

Ron shrugged. "That's easy. I'll copy your notes."

"And what if you are an auror in the field facing a dangerous opponent ill-prepared? Will you disapparate on the spot and come to find me?"

Harry and Ginny exchanged an old-fashioned look.

"I'll just lead them into your house-elf village," quipped Ron. "That'll put a stop to whatever they're doing."

"Excuse me, but I find the term 'house-elf' extremely offensive!"

"I'm sorry," said Ron in a tone that suggested he was anything but. "I keep forgetting what you want us to call them, a touch too long."

"Elfin domestic aid," said Hermione through gritted teeth.

"Like I said, house elves."

Hermione was gearing up for another rebuke when there was a knock on their compartment door and Pansy Parkinson poked her head in.

"You two," she said gruffly, pointing at Ron and Hermione. "In the prefect's carriage. Now."

Pansy reeved up her nose even higher than usual at Harry and Ginny who smiled pleasantly in response, then slammed the compartment door shut behind her.

"Dumbledore must be off his rocker making her head girl," declared Ron, reluctantly getting to his feet.

"Don't you understand?" asked Hermione with an air of forced patience. "He's trying to show some confidence in the Slytherins, mend bridges after everything that's happened. You could make a bit of an effort to be nice to her, Ron."

"All right," said Ron grudgingly as they left the compartment.

"That's the spirit," said Hermione, looking pleasantly surprised.

"I suppose her pig-shaped nose might grow on me."

Ginny and Harry were spared Hermione's retort as the compartment door closed behind them.

"How long do you think it will be before they get into a major row?" asked Ginny casually as she picked up another card from the top of Harry's pile.

Harry sighed. "I think we'll be lucky to survive the train ride. I really thought they'd gotten over all this; I thought it was just some kind of tension they shared because they couldn't express their real feelings to each other."

"Maybe it was," replied Ginny, studying her cards carefully, "but now I think it's just the way they communicate."

Harry looked up at Ginny suddenly. "D - do you think we'll ever y - you know - "

"Have a row?" Ginny smiled. "Let's put it this way, Harry. If we ever end up like them, I'll break up with you; you know that, don't you?"

Harry secretly doubted that Ginny would do anything of the sort but he found that the sentiment relieved him nonetheless.

This sense of relief did not last long, however. A few brief seconds later, a very loud cracking sound echoed throughout the closed space of the compartment. Harry and Ginny immediately put down their cards and turned toward the source of the noise. Moments later, the compartment door swung opened again and Ron and Hermione re-entered breathlessly to find out what had happened.

"Pardon me," drawled Draco Malfoy, who had apparated directly across from Ginny and Harry. "I didn't mean to take your seats."

There was another loud crack as Malfoy disapparated and re-apparated several inches to his right leaving room for Hermione and Ron to sit down next to him.

"There we are," he finished, smiling. "Don't let me stop you."

The incoming seventh-year students had passed their apparation tests during the last few weeks of the summer and were exploring their new-found abilities in fits and starts. Harry was secretly impressed that Malfoy was able to control his apparations so skillfully and wondered how he had been able to do so.

Unfortunately for Harry, however, he did not pursue this line of thinking any further for a split second later, his feeling of curiosity was overcome by a deep antipathy for Malfoy and disbelief that he had the gall to appear in their compartment after all he done to aid the Death Eaters the year before.

Ron and Ginny apparently felt the same way as their wands were out of their robes in an instant and pointed directly at Malfoy. Harry quickly followed suit. Hermione, however, simply folded her arms and stared at him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she demanded sharply.

"Why should I want anything?" he drawled in reply. "It wouldn't be the same if I didn't come round to your compartment each autumn. I remember Weasley here in particular missing me last year."

"Clear out, Malfoy!" ordered Harry.

"Patience, Potter." Malfoy got to his feet and walked over to Hermione. For a moment, Harry could have sworn that he saw an expression of pity on his face but a moment later, Malfoy's jaw hardened and Harry realized that he must have been mistaken. Whatever the case, Malfoy's path to Hermione was quickly blocked by Ron's wand pressing into his left temple. Malfoy stopped walking but otherwise ignored Ron completely, continuing to look at Hermione.

"If you must know," he said. "I came here to congratulate Granger."

"Congratulate me?" said Hermione suspiciously. "For what?"

"The world belongs to you now, doesn't it? And all the other mudbloods just like you. You can put that wand away, Weasley," Malfoy added, without turning to face Ron. "I have no interest in your filthy little girlfriend. Call me old-fashioned but I still prefer pure blood. Unfortunately, you and your friends have done a great deal to make sure that there is very little pure blood left. Except..."

Malfoy did not finish his sentence. Instead he turned around to look at Ginny with a very odd expression on his face.

"It's easy to forget sometimes," he said thoughtfully.

Harry took hold of Ginny's arm and instinctively pulled her closer.

"Oh, come now, Potter. You needn't worry either. Everyone knows you're both great lovers now. You've made that sickeningly obvious. But you can't very well stop other blokes from looking, can you? Especially," he added, walking over to Ginny and running his eyes unabashedly up and down her body, "when there's so much to see."

Harry's wand quickly found its way into Malfoy's other temple.

"I'm going to count to three," he declared through pursed lips. "And when I'm finished, if you haven't left this compartment, I won't be responsible for the consequences."

Harry exchanged a knowing glance with Ron that told him Malfoy would be lucky to get that long.

"Stop it, both of you!"

Harry and Ron swung around in surprise to look at Hermione who was still staring defiantly at Malfoy.

"Can't you see that's exactly what he's trying to goad you into doing? He _wants_ you in detention, or to lose your prefect badge _again_, Ron, or for both of you to be thrown off the Quidditch team, or whatever else. He's right. We've beaten him. It's the only small victory he has left and you both going to hand it right to him."

Before either Ron or Harry could respond, another voice called Harry's name. Harry swung his head around to Ginny, preparing to reserve his deepest expression of betrayal for her. But when their eyes met, a look of understanding passed between them. Only Ron noticed that Harry's eyes traveled briefly to something at Ginny's left hip that was blocked from the others' view. Harry then quickly looked up with a resigned smile on his face and said:

"You're right, Hermione. And he's not going to get away with it this time."

Ron watched in amazement as Harry pocketed his wand and sat back down again.

"Thank you, Ginny," said Hermione. "Now - "

But no sooner had Harry taken his seat when Ginny sprang to her feet, her wand in her hand pointed only inches away from Malfoy's face.

"_Verspitilio Nasus Volare!"_she cried.

Malfoy fell to the floor, clutching the side of his face as a flurry of large black gooey shapes sprung out from Ginny's wand. He threw his hands over his face but the bat bogeys continued to dance all around it, raining down snot over Malfoy's normally well kept hair and robes. It seemed that one especially large bogey had struck him clean in the forehead leaving a large red bat-shaped mark in its wake. Malfoy angrily swiped at the flying bogeys but this only seemed to encourage them to move in even closer. He tried to cast another spell but one of the bogeys swept up his wand in its fangs and passed it around to its fellows. Finally, with a particularly angry snarl and another loud crack, Malfoy disapparated from the compartment, taking the bat bogeys with him.

"He won't be able to steer clear of them that way," remarked Ginny with a satisfied smile. "The bogeys will follow him. A special addition I added after the twins learned to apparate."

Harry and Ron looked highly delighted but Hermione seemed more cross than ever.

"Ginny!" she cried. "I expected better of - "

But Hermione's words caught in her throat as Ginny's smile faded quickly from her face and she walked purposefully over to stand right in front of her. Even Ron and Harry stopped smiling, suddenly uncertain as to what was going to happen next.

Ginny moved her face very close to her extremely-surprised looking older friend.

"I want you to know I understand what you're doing, Hermione, but there's one thing I'd like to make clear."

Ginny's lower teeth became slightly visible as she added:

"If he _ever_ looks at me that way again, there won't a big enough piece of him left for you to pick up from the floor!"

* * *

"Hurry up, mate!"

"J - just a minute, Harry," came Ron's voice from within a small curtain just above his wardrobe in their dormitory that had never been there before.

"We'll be late for the feast! What are you doing up there, anyway?"

"Just putting something away."

Ron's face and hands disappeared behind the curtain again, then reappeared after a few moments. Ron could tell from the heat on his face that he had probably just gone a slight shade of Weasley pink and that Harry would probably be wondering why. To make matters worse, Ginny was standing next to him holding his hand. Was she going to follow him everywhere he went now, even into their dormitory?

The ride in the Hogwarts Express had been somewhat subdued following Malfoy's visit and Ginny's outburst but once they had arrived on the platform at Hogsmeade, the altercation had been more or less forgotten. It was an unusually clear and warm day as they had arrived and the typically dark sky was brightened slightly with the fading embers of the sun which cast a reddening glow on the clouds above the mountains on the horizons. They had not run into Malfoy again after they had left the train nor on the ride to the castle. Hagrid had been there to greet them and had made a great fuss before taking the first years on their customary trip across the lake to the castle. As a result of their battle with Voldemort in the original room the previous year, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione could also see the thestrals guiding the carriages to the castle. Harry had known that they would and he could see that they did in the small gasps and surprised looks that moved quickly over their faces as they left the train. They had said nothing, however, obviously afraid that Harry would be reminded again of Sirius' death. But Harry, who was used to the disturbing memories that the thestrals had conjured since the beginning of his fifth year, had felt somewhat comforted by the thought that he was not alone in seeing the magical creatures this time.

As they had left the carriages and joined the other students on the way into the Great Hall, the four Gryffindors had found themselves quickly surrounded by many of their fellow students, some of whom had been congratulatory, and many more of whom had been curious to receive an eyewitness account of what exactly had gone on in the depths of the castle at the end of the previous spring. Though he usually shirked this kind of attention, Harry found that it was much less grating than usual. Once again, this was because he could share the center of attention with his friends who had shared the experience with him and were asked as many questions as he.

Ron's complaints about his empty stomach were now as persistent an annual ritual as the carriage ride to the school and they had not seemed to abate even when Hermione had remarked that she was amazed his stomach could seem empty when it was filled with chocolate frogs. It had come as surprise to all of them, therefore, when, as they were just about to enter the Great Hall for the feast, Ron had insisted that he had something to put away first. Before anyone could object, he had hurried up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. Somewhat puzzled, the others had saved him a seat in the Great Hall. They had waited for what seemed like some time for him to return. Finally, when Hagrid returned to take his seat at the staff table meaning that the first years had arrived and the sorting ceremony was soon to begin, Harry and Ginny had decided to go upstairs to see what was the matter.

"I - I - it was important," insisted Ron, trying to ignore the curious looks on the faces of his best friend and little sister. "I'm ready now."

Fortunately, Ginny and Harry seemed in too much of a hurry to question Ron - for now. Ron thought he was safe when Harry made for the door handle but then he withdrew it and turned back to look at Ron, a perplexed look on his face.

"Are you sure things are all right, mate?" he said.

Ron drew in a breath. "I - I - I - "

"I mean with you and Hermione. You've gone back to quarreling now, I noticed. I don't want to stick my nose into your business but, you know, if there's anything - "

Ron was already shaking his head, a determined expression suddenly replacing the shocked look he had worn on being discovered hiding whatever it was he had placed on the top of the wardrobe.

"No, Harry. We have a bit of a spat now and then but it's no worries, really."

"If you're sure, mate."

Harry made for the door handle again followed by Ginny but Ron stayed put.

Harry and Ginny looked back, a little surprised.

"Coming?"

Ron did not answer. He glanced between Ginny and Harry, now looking indecisive.

"If there's something you want to talk to Harry about, I can wait downstairs," Ginny offered.

Ron looked at Ginny for a moment, seeming almost on the point of agreeing, when he looked back between her and Harry one more time and shook his head. The three of them stood silently for another awkward moment before Ron said:

"Look - can you keep a secret?"

"Of course," replied Harry. "You don't have to ask that."

"And you?" Ron looked more suspiciously at Ginny but she only nodded guilelessly.

Ron hesitated for another moment and then reached with his lanky frame once again to the curtain on the top of his wardrobe. He caught hold of the object he had hidden there, brought it down, and showed it to Harry and Ginny.

"There," he said. "That should show you exactly how things are going with me and Hermione."

It was a perfectly square glass box that just about fit perfectly into Ron's two open palms. Inside was a small stand that looked to be made of some kind of red felt. Above the felt, apparently enchanted by a charm that Harry did not know, two identically-shaped gold rings spun around and around in the air. The gold of the rings caught the faint light from the lantern in their room with each spin. It seemed brighter and more brilliant than any gold Harry could ever recall having seen before. Beneath the dais, etched on a tiny, yet intricate strip of silver were written the words:

TO HERMIONE, LOVE FOREVER, FROM RON.

Harry took all of this in very quickly but not before he heard Ginny let out a gasp. He felt her hand clench and unclench nervously in his.

"B - but, Ron, are you sure?" she said. "You're so young!"

Ron only nodded, his face now a study in calm.

"But shouldn't you at least wait until you graduate!"

"I don't want to wait another moment longer," Ron said in a tone of voice that could make no one doubt his conviction. "Not after everything that's happened to us. Life doesn't last forever and I want to make sure that she knows I want to spend it with her."

"B - but I can't help but think what Mum and Dad will think."

"It doesn't matter what they think!" Ron raised his voice slightly. "They're not going to change my mind. No one is."

Ginny nodded very slightly.

"You're not going to tell them, are you?" Ron added, his eyes narrowing.

"No, of course not," replied Ginny, looking annoyed. "As if I'd want to be the one to deliver that news." She paused and then asked: "However did you get the gold to buy it?"

Ron lowered his head slightly. "Fred and George," he murmured sheepishly. "They said business had been good."

Ginny's eyes widened. "And you expect to keep this a secret?"

Ron shrugged. "I didn't have much other choice, did I?" he said, his eyes avoiding Harry's. "Actually, I've never seen them so serious."

Ginny nodded again and watched the spinning rings, mesmerized. "I don't doubt that somehow," she said softly.

Harry cleared his throat.

"I don't mean to be rude but perhaps someone would like to tell me what's going on. Ron, do I take it that you mean to propose to Hermione?"

It was Ginny who answered when Ron's mouth suddenly seemed incapable of forming words.

"It's a bit more complicated than that," she said.

Harry looked back and forth between Ron and Ginny wondering what could possibly be coming next.

"It's not really marriage, I mean not the way Muggles think of it," said Ginny, continuing to stare at the rings. "We have a separate ceremony for that. This is just between a couple; they put on the rings at a place and time when they are alone together. And not everyone who gets married chooses to take the rings, especially these days; our parents didn't: I think my Dad was too poor to afford them. The rings are of a pair and whenever they are apart they will sing the feelings of the other. The rings very quickly adapt to their wearers so that when they are separated, they can hear the other's feelings in their head."

"Sort of like telepathy?" said Harry, trying to understand.

"Empathy more, I suppose," replied Ginny. "If you're really in love with someone, it can be very comforting. But you wouldn't want to do it with just anyone. Once placed on the finger, the ring can never be taken off. And there's no counter charm so far as anyone knows. There are wizards and witches who have gotten divorced but still haven't been able to take off their rings. It's not very nice. Some people have tried to charm the rings, their heads, their ex-wives or husbands, and they've typically ended up in St. Mungo's."

Ron's eyes met Harry's for the first time.

"I'm not going to want to take it back," he said quietly. "Not ever."

Harry nodded slowly. "I take it she doesn't know."

"No."

"And when were you planning to give it to her?"

Ron hesitated for a moment then, as if he was deciding it for the first time, answered:

"Tonight. After the feast. I'm going to tell her tonight."

Harry heard Ginny draw in a breath next to him.

"All right, mate, you go for it," he said. "Don't put it off or drag it out this time, okay?"

"I told you I'm telling her tonight."

Harry nodded. "All right." He paused and swallowed. "We better get down to the feast then."

Harry could feel that Ginny's palm in his was wet with sweat though he was not sure if it was his or hers. Ron quickly put the ring stand away and they left for dinner, walking all the way down to the Great Hall in silence. Professor McGonagall did not look very pleased when they passed the nervous group of first years whom she was already talking to in front of the Great Hall, and looked even more sour when Ron, Harry, and Ginny offered only lukewarm apologies for their tardiness.

Harry did not have to guess that Ginny and Ron must be churning a great many things in their heads. He knew that he was. It was hard to believe that less than one year before Hermione and Ron had seemed to be struggling just to stay friends; now at least Ron was thinking about forever. But, of course, a lot had happened in that year and Ron and Hermione had nearly lost each other down in the original room. Harry wondered, not for the first time, what things might have been like if Voldemort hadn't filled their lives with a sometimes desperate and always nagging fear of their own mortality. Might Ron and Hermione have had more time to think things over? Would that have been good or bad?

Harry was so deep in thought that he did not realize at first that as he entered the Great Hall, everyone around him had started to applaud. When he did, he faced creased into an irritable frown and he rushed with Ginny to the seats they had vacated next to Hermione. Harry noticed that on the other side of Hermione now sat Ginny's roommates Amanda and Catherine along with Colin Creevey, whom Harry noticed with slight surprise was holding hands with Amanda. Harry paused only to consider that he would rather Colin hold hands with a girl than keep his fingers poised on the shutter release of a camera, especially the ways things were at the moment, then returned to his ruminations about his two best friends. He was interrupted again, however, when a voice said, apparently not for the first time:

"Harry?"

Harry looked across at the slightly concerned but nonetheless buoyant face of Neville Longbottom. In doing so, however, he found himself doing a slight double-take: Neville seemed far less round than Harry had remembered him from previous years perhaps because he had grown quite tall. Neville's nervous manner also seemed to be much improved although Harry found himself pleased to see that his boyish enthusiasm had not changed:

"I got a new Remembrall over the summer!" he said cheerfully. "It's a good thing, too, as I lost my old one and then my _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ died. It's much better than my old one. Want to see?"

Harry was surprised to find himself agreeing with Neville. Even though he had little interest in Remembralls, he could not help but think that Neville's enthusiasm had a way of rubbing off on him. He also found himself grateful for the distraction from what had been his more serious musings.

Neville reached down into a bag which had been resting on the seat beside him and took out a glass ball the size of a large grapefruit.

"See, it's much bigger!" he said. "And it's clear now because I haven't forgotten anything! But when I do, it goes all sorts of colors, not just red like the last one. You don't have to grab or turn it or anything; it does it automatically! Gran reckons it's sure to give me a few more N.E.! She got it for me over the summer holidays in Diagon Alley; she said the shopkeeper was willing to sell it to her for cheap; not many people buy them these days, apparently. Anyhow - "

Neville was beginning to ramble now and Harry found his attention wavering. His eyes rested briefly to the chair to Neville's immediate right where his girlfriend Luna Lovegood sat holding his hand. As they were all dressed in school uniform, it was difficult to know whether Luna's fashion sense had improved. Judging from her customary necklace of Butterbeer bottle caps and the non-matching orange and purple Bertie Botts' Every Flavor beans she wore as earrings, Harry suspected that it hadn't. Luna seemed to waver between gazing fondly at Neville and staring off into space. When Neville had finally finished talking, Luna took the Remembrall in her own hand, and studying it as if for the first time, said, sighing:

"It's very beautiful but I'm not sure it works very well."

"And why is that?" asked Harry, suddenly finding himself slightly annoyed by Luna.

"Well, Neville came with father and I to visit the lair of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack this summer."

"Let me guess," said Hermione acidly. "You still didn't find any."

"Oh, but we did," replied Luna smiling. "But, of course, we don't remember. The Crumple Horned Snorkack wish to remain undiscovered so they made us perform memory charms on ourselves to preserve their secret location."

"And if you performed a memory charm on yourself, how is it you still remember this?" asked Ginny.

Luna held up her left wrist to reveal a watch in the shape of an eagle resting on top of a lion whose two wings formed the hour and minute hands.

"Missing time!" she declared. "I looked at my watch just as we were nearing their nest and the eagle hand was pointing straight up. But when I checked it again just a few seconds later, it was right down near the lion's bottom. Do you know what that means?"

"Perhaps you need to buy a new watch?" suggested Ron.

Luna's eyes narrowed severely at Ron.

"You may not realize it, Ronald Weasley, but I know that underneath your defensive wit burns a passionate, jealous heart. Don't worry, dear," she added, running her fingers affectionately through Neville's hair. "I only have eyes for you."

Ron showed little reaction to this pronouncement but Ginny giggled and Harry was amused to see Hermione turn red and shoot a very severe glance at Luna who seemed not to notice.

"It means," Luna went on, "that during that time, we came across one or more Crumple- Horned Snorkack but our memories were erased of the event. Unfortunately, it seems the Remembrall did not remind us." She sighed and patted Neville on the shoulder. "Never mind, dear, I'm sure it's fine for ordinary occasions."

Harry had spotted McGonagall entering the hall followed by the line of nervous-looking first years. Luna had noticed her, too, for she planted a very sloppy kiss on Neville's face and then hurried over to reluctantly sit with her own housemates.

Neville turned around to look back at the others, a slightly lopsided grin on his face and a generous quantity of Luna's lipstick on his cheek. Dean and Seamus, who were sitting on Ginny's right side across from Amanda and Colin, began to snicker. Hermione turned Neville's face toward hers and gently performed a scourgification charm on his cheek, flashing a final glare at Luna who had now reached the Ravenclaw table.

Harry had resolved to give his full attention to the final sorting ceremony he would see as a Hogwarts student but he discovered that, freed from the fleeting distraction of hearing about Neville and Luna's summer adventures, his mind seemed to return to the possibility of a magical union between his two friends. It seemed to Harry that the ceremony had barely begun when McGonagall was putting the hat away and Dumbledore was standing up from his chair.

"I would like to welcome everyone to another year at Hogwarts," he announced, his eyes once again full of a sparkle that been absent during the war of the past two years. "It has been a very long time since I've felt in the mood to say this but tonight I think I'll give it another try: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

Dumbledore sat back down in his chair again and the feast unfolded itself before the eyes of the assembled students, something that never failed to cause shouts of amazement even from many of the returning pupils. Harry wondered whether Ron's stomach would be too full of butterflies - not to mention chocolate frogs - for him to eat the supper, but on the appearance of the food, he let out something of a victory cry and dug right in. Harry also found that the feast seemed to be especially delicious this year and managed to consume quite a bit despite his other vexations. As the meal wore on, he began to talk with the others about the changes at the staff table.

"Snape doesn't look very happy," remarked Ginny.

"Never does," said Ron.

It was true that their Potions Master, who looked even gaunter than usual, if such a thing were possible, looked particularly displeased and seemed to only be picking at his food. Once or twice, Harry was sure he caught him eyeing the headmaster's chair as if he thought it should still belong to him. Harry, for his part, was very happy to see Dumbledore eating away merrily and talking in an animated manner to Professor Flitwick who sat to his left. It was as if the last two years had been nothing but a horrible dream.

"I can't see anyone new," said Hermione. "I wonder who the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is."

"Not Snape, by the look of things," remarked Harry.

It was following a delicious helping of custard pie that Dumbledore got to his feet once again with a typical list of start of term announcements. There were the usual admonitions to stay away from the Forbidden Forest and to observe the ever-increasing list of prohibitions posted on the door to Filch's office. Finally, Dumbledore got to matters of greater interest to the curious Gryffindors.

"We are pleased to have back our Potions Master, Professor Snape, who has kindly volunteered to step down from his post as acting headmaster to return to his regular duties."

Snape got up from his chair with what appeared to be great reluctance as the hall filled with applause from all four of the house tables, though Harry suspected it was for different reasons.

"I would also like to welcome back into service Professor Grubbly-Plank who, on this occasion, will be substituting for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts while we continue to search for a permanent replacement for Professor Nevins who has returned this year to attend to his rather unruly garden."

There was polite applause as Grubbly-Plank rose from the right end of the table and gave a curt nod before sitting back down again.

"I'm surprised this hasn't happened before," remarked Ginny. "I doubt they'll ever find someone who'll take that job now."

"No wonder Snape seems so unhappy," said Hermione. "They couldn't find anyone to take the job and Dumbledore still didn't give it to him."

"Should have asked you, mate," said Ron to Harry.

"Don't be ridiculous."

McGonagall cleared her throat slightly which caused all of the similar whispered speculations that had been traveling across the room to stop.

Dumbledore smiled engagingly. "I am also pleased to make another special announcement. Last year, as many as you know, saw the defeat of Lord Voldemort."

Whatever the students had thought of Dumbledore once again saying Voldemort's name out loud was lost in the thunderous applause and cheers that rang throughout the Great Hall at his pronouncement. Many students got to their feet and Harry was quick to join them although he could not ignore the fact that many of the faces seemed to be applauding to him. He was determined not to make things worse by rubbing it into the face of the Slytherins but he could not help looking over at Malfoy and was surprised to find that he had also stood to his feet to applaud, a slightly bemused smirk on his face that led Harry to believe that his cheering was largely sarcastic. He seemed to have cleaned up his face from the Bat Bogey attack although Harry was pleased to see that he had been as yet unable to remove the red bat-shaped indentation on his forehead.

This time, McGonagall waited for the applause to die down slightly before banging her spoon impatiently on the side of her cup.

The room finally fell silent and Dumbledore continued:

"The prefects urged me to make this a celebration dinner. However, since I suspect that most of you are tired from the days' train journey, and since, after all, tomorrow is a school day," Dumbledore paused briefly as a series of groans echoed throughout the hall, "I have decided to postpone things until this Friday when we will have what they have asked me to call a 'liberation ball.' There will be no minimum age requirement: all students are welcome to attend!"

Dumbledore sat back down to indulge in a second slice of custard pie as the room buzzed again, this time uninterrupted.

Harry squeezed Ginny's hand and looked up into her face.

"I hope you don't have any other plans?"

"You have to say wangoballwime, Harry."

Ginny giggled as Harry's mouth dropped.

"H - how - how do you _know_?"

Hermione turned to Ron with an expression of mock severity.

"I'll go with you to the ball if you promise not to take me on any walks to the Astronomy Tower afterward."

"I'm sorry to break this to you, Hermione, but I was rather thinking of asking Eloise Midgen."

Hermione flicked a stray orange peel in Ron's face as he grinned goofily.

The banter had set a relaxed tone for the rest of the evening, however, which picked up further when they returned to Gryffindor Tower where Harry's fellow housemates did not seem in the mood to wait for Friday night to begin their celebrations. He had to answer a great many more questions about what had happened down in the original room but at least this took his mind off Ron's impending gift to Hermione. There was much Butterbeer and after putting up an initial protest, Hermione finally agreed to let students from other houses make their way inside as news spread fast that the Gryffindor common room was the place to be. She even let Luna in despite the fact that she had traded in her robes for a pair of bright pink trousers and a low-cut black T-shirt which sported a moving picture of a masked Death Eater trying in vain to escape from an Azkaban cell with the words: EAT THIS printed in a caption below. Finally, it was getting late and Hermione and Ron shooed the revelers back to their dormitories and most of their fellow classmates up to bed until only they, he, and Ginny remained in the common room.

"I'm going up, too," Ginny declared. "My head hurts a bit."

Harry looked suddenly concerned. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine," said Ginny. "A bit too much Butterbeer, I think," she added, as a burp escaped her lips.

"Well, good night then." Harry smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

"Good night." Ginny smiled back but did not make a move for her dormitory. Her head was lifted up looking into Harry's and both she and Harry's smiles seemed to take on a slightly deranged look. Finally, Ginny turned around and made a reluctant move for the staircase to the girls' dormitories only to return after a few steps to rush into his arms again. After a slightly more meaningful kiss, Ginny walked back up the steps again and, despite pausing twice to wave back at Harry, managed to make it into her room and close the door behind her.

Harry reluctantly turned back around and went immediately red as he saw that Ron and Hermione had been watching the whole exchange.

"You know, Harry," said Ron seriously. "When a girl says her head hurts, it means she's avoiding you."

Harry's smile began to fade until Hermione burst into giggles. He then threw one of the pillows from the sofa next to him into Ron's face and sat down next to his two friends, his cheeks burning.

"Honestly, mate," said Ron smirking. "You should see the pair of you."

"Yeah, well, the pot's called the kettle black now, hasn't it?" said Harry.

He was pleased to see that Ron and Hermione had gone red at this, too. It was obvious that none of them felt much like going up to sleep themselves. More Butterbeer was poured and the conversation quickly turned to the reminiscences of six years of close friendship. They joked about Fleur Delacour asking Ron to the ball; Hermione's petrification of Neville; and even Harry's narrow escapes from the Dursleys. Things that had seemed deadly serious at the time now seemed mostly just funny, particularly when it concerned Harry and Ron's comical early attempts at dating. It did not escape Harry's notice, however, that Ron did not seem like someone who was about to offer Hermione a set of wizard rings. He suspected that he had forgotten his resolve to ask her that night and imagined that this was the only the beginning of a long and painful process of putting off the inevitable.

Finally, after it was well past midnight and the trio of friends were still deep in rib-tickling conversation, Ron said:

"You know what this conversation needs?"

Harry and Hermione shook their heads.

"Something better than one of these kiddie drinks. What's say we get ourselves a bottle of fire whisky?"

"Oh, no, Ron, you can't!" protested Hermione.

"Oh, come on, Hermione," came the reply. "We're _almost_ of age!"

"B - but you can't bring it into the common room and wherever would you find one?"

"I think the staff's been known to have the occasional nip or two," said Harry, catching Ron's eye.

"And I wonder where they got it from?" said Ron, his eyes twinkling.

"What - where - No!" said Hermione as she finally realized what Harry and Ron were driving at. "You can't! I absolutely forbid it!"

"Relax, Hermione," said Harry. "You can't deny the house-elves the joy of serving us."

"I've told you it's - "

"Elfin domestic labor!" chorused Harry and Ron.

"Yes, and it's - it's exploitation what you're planning!"

"What, after all you've done to liberate them?" asked Ron. "And Harry here, helping Winky take an extra day off work after she'd saved his life. They'll be sobbing with happiness!"

"No, no, I forbid it! If you take one bottle - "

Harry and Ron began to groan loudly.

"Ssssh! Both of you! You'll wake the whole house up!"

But the groaning only increased in volume. Both Ron and Harry began to smile mischievously.

"I said stop it! Do you want Professor McGonagall - "

But Hermione did not finish her sentence as her face, too, settled into a reluctant smile.

"Oh, all right," she said. "We'd all better go then. Oh, I can't believe what I've just agreed to!"

"I think Ron's had a good influence on you," said Harry smiling. "But I think I'll go alone. It'll be harder to get caught and who knows," he added nonchalantly, "perhaps you two have something to talk about."

Harry grinned evilly at Ron whose own smile faded along with the color from his cheeks.

Harry went back to their dormitory. Quietly, so as not to wake any of his already sleeping roommates, he took his invisibility cloak out of his trunk and made his way back downstairs. Hermione was still smiling, albeit somewhat reluctantly, but she hadn't seemed to notice that Ron was fidgeting nervously with his hands.

"I won't be long," Harry said, looking meaningfully at Ron and with that, he was out of the portrait hole.

Harry made his way carefully through the corridors, grateful to hear the sounds of Filch's hoarse yells and Peeves' cackling laughter from a different direction than his planned route to the kitchens. He still took care to tread lightly, however, so as not to give either Filch or Mrs. Norris, should she happen to be around, any cause to break off pursuit of Peeves for a much less elusive target. Harry had not strayed far from the entrance to the common room, however, when he realized he was not alone. Another set of voices, speaking not in the frazzled cries of Peeves and Filch but the hushed whispers of two people that do not want to be discovered, had reached his ears.

Harry forced down his curiosity at who could be talking so close to the common room at this time of night. He had resolved to keep walking quietly when he distinctly heard a female voice end her sentence with his name.

At this, Harry stopped walking and, for a moment, the voices stopped talking. Just when he was sure he must have been imagining things, however, a very familiar male voice said:

"I'm not comparing myself to him."

It was Dean. Harry was sure of it. Not pausing to consider further whether this was something to which he ought to be listening, Harry edged his way in the direction of the voices. Finally, he passed a corner of the corridor and the dark but recognizable figures of Dean and Lavender Brown came into view right in front of him.

"It sounded like you were!" snapped Lavender in a harsh whisper.

"And why would I want to do that?"

There was another pause, then Lavender said quietly:

"Ask yourself."

Dean sighed. "So that's what this is about. You still think I'm mad about _her_, don't you?"

Harry's heart began beating so fast he was sure Dean and Lavender would hear it. Her? Who was her? Not - not _Ginny?_

If Harry was seeking to reassure himself that his two fellow seventh-years were talking about someone and something different, Lavender's next assertion did little to help.

"Oh, come on, Dean, stop trying to fool me; at least stop trying to fool yourself. I saw the way you stayed around last year when she was in the hospital wing, how you wouldn't leave until she'd been released!"

"I was worried about her! She nearly died down there; I was worried about Harry, too. It wasn't anything else!"

Harry felt a wave of righteous anger spring up in Dean's defense. Lavender had never gotten grown out of her habit of gossip and now it had seemed to grow spiteful. What business was it of hers whether Dean had stayed anyway?

"I saw the way you sat next to her tonight, too, at the feast. And the way you would turn around to look at her whenever you didn't think Harry was paying attention. Parvati saw it, too. Even one of Ginny's roommates did!"

Had Dean been looking at Ginny? Certainly Harry hadn't noticed. But then if he had been doing it when Harry was looking away... Harry started to feel a bit unnerved but it nothing to what he felt after he heard Dean's halting response.

"A - all right," he said, a little nervously. "Maybe I still have a bit of a thing about her. I - it was a tough break-up, okay? At least for me," he added a little sadly. "I wouldn't do anything to get in the way of their relationship, though!"

Lavender sighed. When she spoke again, her voice was much softer.

"No one said you would, Dean, but you've got it to face it: she's had her eye on him since before she ever set foot in this school and now that he likes her back, they've as good as sent out invitations to their wedding. If you keep on like this, you're only going to get yourself hurt!"

"I'm not doing anything!"

Lavender sighed again.

"Look, you're an awfully nice chap, all right? And a bit dishy as well, I admit - "

More to the point, thought Harry.

" - I'm not offering you rings or anything. It's just that this is our last year here and I thought maybe we could have some fun together. If you're not interested, fine, but don't waste your last days here pining after someone you can never have."

Without waiting for Dean's response, Lavender turned and headed back toward the entrance to the common room. Harry leapt quickly out of the way as she strode directly at where he'd been standing. They barely missed each other but as Harry watched her retreat, he could see that she obviously hadn't noticed him there.

Dean continued to stand where he was and Harry found he could still hear the sound of his heart beating rapidly in his chest as his roommate and friend did not move. He found himself deciding it was fortunate that Dean's head was slightly obscured by the shadows of the wall in front of which he was standing so that Harry could not see the expression on his face. Harry did not move for fear that Dean would hear him although he also found himself doubting that Dean was in a state of mind to pay much attention to what was going on around him. Finally, after what must have been several minutes, Dean let out a long sigh and walked past Harry back to the common room.

* * *

Hermione and Ron were still awake when Harry returned although he could tell at once that this was more out of loyalty than interest. After being delayed by Dean and Lavender's midnight conversation; several appearances by Mrs. Norris, who seemed to have realized better than her master that chasing Peeves was pointless; and an eager but loquacious Dobby, it was some while before he returned to the common room with the fire whisky in hand. It was also apparent to Harry from the sleepy expressions on Ron and Hermione's faces that no conversation about wizard rings had been shared between them.

"What happened?" asked Ron lazily.

"Er - I - I - Filch," Harry decided. "I had to go the long way round a few times." He quickly realized that Ron was the last person who should be told about the conversation he had overheard.

"The portrait hole kept opening," said Hermione drowsily. "Each time we thought it was you."

"But it was only Lavender and then Dean," said Ron.

"You didn't tell them I was out there, did you?" asked Harry, trying unsuccessfully to conceal the note of alarm in his voice.

Fortunately for Harry, however, his two friends seemed too sleepy to wonder why he was so concerned.

Ron shook his head. "They didn't seem in much of a mood to talk about anything, actually."

There was a pause in the conversation and Harry looked between Ron and Hermione.

"Look," he said, "you're not really in the mood, anymore, are you?"

"Sorry, Harry," said Hermione.

"You went to all that trouble, mate," added Ron. "And you did get it." He looked at the bottle in Harry's hand. "Never mind, we'll save it for another time, all right?"

Hermione seemed to wake up slightly at this.

"Ron, you can't just stow a bottle of fire whisky in your room!"

"Why not? None of the teachers ever go in there and we can wrap it in Harry's invisibility cloak just to be sure."

Hermione looked to Harry for support but he just nodded. She groaned.

"Come on, Hermione, you're not going to make him give it back, are you?"

By way of a response, Hermione reached up and kissed Ron on the cheek.

"I'm going to bed. Be it on your own heads."

The boys exchanged good nights with Hermione and then went up to their own beds, grinning. Harry took off his invisibility cloak and cast a sideways glance to see that Dean was now in his bed, though Harry felt himself doubting he was asleep. They wrapped the bottle of whisky in the cloak as they had planned. Harry was going to place it back into his trunk but at the last minute, he handed the cloak-wrapped bottle to Ron and asked him to place it next to the ring stand behind the curtain at the top of his wardrobe.

"That way it's handy to celebrate when you give her the rings," he whispered. "You didn't give them to her yet, did you?"

Ron shook his head a little guiltily but he gratefully took the package and carefully placed it behind the curtain, making that sure that it was not visible by anyone in the room. Both he and Harry then got into bed.

"You are going to tell her soon, mate, aren't you?" Harry asked.

There was no reply.

"I just don't want you to give yourself an ulcer, that's all."

And me, Harry thought.

Ron sighed audibly. "I know, Harry. I - I just couldn't do it tonight. I'll tell her tomorrow, I promise."

Harry didn't want to push it further. "All right, Ron. Good luck."

"Thanks, Harry. Good night."

"Good night."

The sounds of an exhausted Ron sleeping could be heard almost immediately but Harry could not fall asleep so easily in spite of his mental and physical exhaustion. After spending most of the early evening agonizing about Ron and Hermione's impending engagement, he now found himself stewing over the conversation he had overheard in the corridor. He wanted to feel angry with Dean and felt sure that if he could find some reason to be so, he would feel much better. But while he felt a renewed disgust at Lavender, he could only feel pity and even a little guilt toward his roommate and not only because of Dean's assertion that he would do nothing to interfere with Harry's relationship with Ginny, but also because he knew exactly how he would feel if someone as wonderful as Ginny were to break up with him. A fresh worry sprung up in Harry's mind as he wondered whether he should tell Ginny what he had overheard. He was sure that this was the last thing Dean would want but he couldn't imagine Ginny being very happy if she found out he had known and told her nothing. Harry was still undecided when his fatigue finally overcame him and he fell asleep.

_In his restless dream, Harry was sitting in a theater. His mother and father sat on either side of him, a wizard ring in each of the hands that held his. Harry felt a sudden fear seize him__as the lights in the theater darkened and the thick velvet curtains that covered the stage began to open. But he felt the reassuring squeeze of his parents' hands in his and the fear subsided._

_The stage was empty at first but then a single spotlight shone on a small grey triangle at the center. Harry saw a flutter of movement behind the light and then a figure stepped onto the triangle.__He was wearing a black cloak that covered everything but his face which was__concealed behind__a white mask. Exaggerated black lines__marked__its eyebrows, moustache, and a long, sinister-looking beard._

_Harry clutched his mother's hand again protectively._

_"It's a Death Eater!" he said in a child's voice._

_"Relax, Harry," said Lily. "It's not. See, the face is completely different. And there aren't any Death Eaters now, remember?"_

_She squeezed Harry's hand again and Harry felt himself calm a little. But he still could not take his eyes away from the figure at the triangle's center._

_The tapping of a small drum was heard somewhere in the darkness. The figure sprang to life and began to move his body to a martial dance as if realizing movement for the first time. He looked around as if expecting something to come to him from out of the darkness. Another light shone on a__grey__rectangle across from the masked dancer and another figure appeared wearing a green mask with deep red lines for its eyebrows. The dancer__leapt__back in alarm. He__looked across at the other figure for a moment and then suddenly swung__back to__face__the audience. As it did__so, the mask on his__face changed__into a deep blue._

_Harry tensed again but the audience clapped appreciatively. The other figure's mask changed as well to a canary__yellow.__The dancer turned to face the other figure and reached into its robes, taking out his__wand. The other figure followed suit. Harry turned__to his father to see what his__reaction was__but James only seemed to smile._

_The dancer swung around again and flicked his wand at his__opponent. The drum struck again in the background and the face of the opponent changed. It was white now with no other makeup__save for a blood red lightning-bolt scar which started from its forehead and ran like a waterfall down the front of its mask in rivulets of painted-on blood. There was another crack of a drum as the be-scarred figure flicked its wand in return and then the dancer's face changed, too._

_His__mask__also__became__white. There__was no space for its nose. The eyes on the mask were__wide and red__and its painted-on__mouth looked thin and hungry._

_Harry's scar__erupted in pain. He__seized the hands of both__of__his parents but found himself clutching nothing but the arms of his chair. He looked around frantically but both__his mother and father__were gone. In fact there was no one in the theater at all save for himself and the two very familiar masked wizards on the stage.__His heart racing, Harry saw the masked figure without the scar turn to face him._

_"Oh no, Harry," it said in a__familiar__voice. "We can't have an audience anymore. This show is only for you."_

_The scar-less figure waved his arm quickly in front of his face and his mask changed again. This time it was green. Two yellow and red striped snakes were painted on the sides of its cheeks._

_"I can make anything disappear, Harry. I can make anything change. But nothing can change me."_

_He flicked his wand again toward__his would-be opponent whose mask also__changed again. It was still white but now there was no scar, only a clown's mouth drawn orange in a circle of surprise._

_The pain from Harry's scar vanished just as quickly as the mask on the face of the clown had changed. He watched as the clown reached up to his forehead, confusion still painted on his face. Without knowing how he had willed himself to follow, Harry's own hand reached up to the same spot and he discovered that his scar not only did not hurt, it was no longer there._

_"Contradiction__confuses us, Harry," said the voice of the snake-masked figure, growing louder and more confident. "But__I can take that surprise away in exchange for a little forgetfulness."_

_The figure snapped__his__wand again and the light over the clown-masked figure disappeared. He waved his hand in front of his__face again and the mask fell away entirely. The face that now looked back at Harry was the wearer's own._

_And it belonged to Draco Malfoy._

_A satisfied__smile crested Malfoy's lips as he pointed his wand__toward Harry. He flicked__it__one last time and the whole scene disappeared before Harry's eyes. He sank into a deep, dreamless sleep. And when he awoke, he remembered nothing._

* * *

When Ginny woke up, she found that most of her roommates had already left for breakfast. She felt slightly miffed that they hadn't woken her, then vaguely remembered that they had tried. She quickly dressed and then made her way down through an empty common room and out toward the Great Hall.

As Ginny moved down through the castle, it was with the slightly groggy but nonetheless fresh feeling that came from having had a little too much sleep. She was not sure what had tired her so but she found that her headache of the previous night was now gone.

It was apparent to Ginny as she entered the hall that it seemed slightly emptier than usual, the Gryffindor table in particular. Perhaps many of her fellow students had gotten a head start on breakfast - or perhaps they were still asleep in their beds. Without pausing to give it too much thought and fearing she might be late for her first class, Ginny quickly hurried over to sit next to Harry and Ron who seemed to be just finishing their breakfast. Neville and Luna were sitting on the other side of them and all four were gazing into the depths of Neville's Remembrall which was now glowing from a rainbow of changing colors which emanated from a cloud-like shape at its center.

"The trouble is," Neville was saying. "I still can't remember what it is I've forgotten."

Ginny sat down quickly and gave a Harry a quick kiss.

"Hi," said Harry, putting his arm around her. "I'm sorry we didn't wait for you. Amanda said she tried to wake you up. Only we've just found out we've got double N.E.W.T. Potions this morning with You-Know-Who."

"The other You-Know-Who," Ron quickly added.

Ginny nodded her understanding.

"Didn't you sleep well?" asked Harry, running his fingers over a stray strand of Ginny's hair that had fallen in front of her eyes.

Ginny shook her head. "Fine. I suppose I must have been really exhausted but I feel much better now. Which is more than I can say for the pair of you." She looked at Harry and Ron properly. "You stayed up a bit too late last night, didn't you?"

"Talking about old times," admitted Harry.

"Seemed like a good idea then," moaned Ron, looking as if death had come to visit in the night and had been turned away only very reluctantly.

"I expect Hermione's already finished," Ginny said briskly, buttering herself a piece of toast.

"Sorry?" said Harry blankly.

"Her mind?" said Ron lazily. "Who minds? Minds what?"

"Oh, dear," said Ginny. "It must be worse than I thought." She leaned over and whispered so that only Ron and Harry could hear.

"Did you give her the rings?"

Both Harry and Ron had now stopped eating. They exchanged a quick frown and then turned back to look at Ginny, apparently baffled.

"_Her - mi - o - ne,"_said Ginny slowly as if addressing a pair of remedial learners. "Your," she looked at Ron and paused, "girlfriend?"

"Sorry," said Ron. "I'm sure if I had a girlfriend, I'd remember her."

"Something's happened, hasn't it? Have you two had a real tiff?"

Ginny looked across at Harry but he seemed just as confused.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," he said, looking at her very oddly. "I'm not quite clear who you're talking about."

Ginny looked back and forth between Harry and Ron whose expressions remained unchanged.

"Tell me you're pulling my leg," she said finally.

But Ginny could see right away that if this was a joke, it was a very odd one. A strange fear seemed to rise within her. She quickly found that she would give anything for Harry or Ron's face to break into a smirk and the prank to be confessed but nothing like that happened. They continued to look at each other saying nothing for several more moments when another voice rang out behind them:

"Good morning, Pottie, Weasel Face," drawled Malfoy. "Not started lessons yet and already looking stumped."

"You must be used to that standing between Crabbe and Goyle all the time," remarked Ron.

"Get back to your own table, Malfoy," said Harry.

"Why so uncivil, Potter? Has my little bit of teasing gotten to you? Though I suppose that growing up as a Muggle punching bag, any little thing is bound to make you crack."

Ron's wand was out quickly.

"There's no need for you to humiliate yourself in front of the whole school, Weasley. I'm leaving."

Malfoy strode purposefully past the seated Gryffindors and down to the exit to the hall. He walked right behind Harry and then Ginny. At first, he did not acknowledge her at all but then, after he had almost past her chair completely, he swung around and without warning, grabbed Ginny's shoulders, and whispered something into her ear.

Both Harry and Ron stood up and aimed their wands at Malfoy. What was left of the students in the Great Hall had now all turned around to watch.

"Stay away from her!" barked Harry.

Malfoy merely smirked, shrugged, and continued to walk briskly toward the exit.

Ron continued to point his wand at Malfoy's retreating back, his face scarlet with rage but Harry had already turned toward Ginny. He had not failed to notice that she had made no move to defend herself against Malfoy despite showing the previous day that she was perfectly capable of doing so. Worse, her face had gone very pale. Harry quickly grabbed hold of her hands only to find they were pale and trembling.

"What is it?" he asked urgently. "What did he tell you? What did he say?"

For a moment, Ginny stared listlessly ahead as though she could see and hear nothing.

"Ginny?" whispered Harry, looking straight into her eyes. "Please tell me what's wrong. Did he - "

Harry stopped talking as Ginny opened her mouth and in a frightened, quivering voice murmured:

"He said 'I told him to enjoy her while he could.'"


	2. The Very Unfortunate Ride of Snape

**Chapter 2**

**The Very Unfortunate Ride of Professor Severus Snape**

"What?" Ron swung around to face his sister.

Ginny didn't respond right away. She sat in her seat staring into space, her body continuing to tremble even as Harry held onto her hands more tightly, looking ever more concerned.

"Told who - what?" asked Ron again.

Ginny paused for another long moment.

"Malfoy told you," she said, looking straight ahead but not quite at her brother. "Last year after you hit him in the corridors. I remember Hermione telling me. She was terrified. And I suppose now she should have been."

"Who's this Hermione person?" demanded Ron.

Ginny looked between Ron and Harry, forlorn.

"Only your best friend in the whole world."

Ron's face softened immediately as Ginny let out a choked sob. Harry immediately put his arm around her and buried her in his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair as though her horrified mood could be untwisted just as simply. All the while his own face was a study in deep concern.

Harry wasn't at all sure what it was that Ginny was talking about but he knew that something was deeply wrong. Whether it was something Malfoy had said or done, it had let out an ugly inner demon to take the joy from her soul again, and he wished he could find some way to stop it.

Harry was still looking down at Ginny when he felt someone slide into the chair on the other side of Ginny. He looked up and groaned inwardly as he saw that it was Luna. If the aim was making a tense situation worse, Harry had no doubt that Luna was the master. On this occasion, she did not disappoint.

"Xenophobes," she said, putting her arm on Ginny's shoulder and ignoring the very cold look that Harry was giving her. "Don't you see what's happened? I told her to be careful but she must have gone and made friends with one of the aliens down in the kitchens. He or she must have forgotten to wipe her memory." Her face knitted in concern. "It must be very painful."

Harry was still thinking of an appropriate retort when to both his amazement and consternation, Ginny sat upright and looked at Luna, her eyes as wide as her fellow sixth-year.

"You believe me, Luna, don't you?" she said.

Luna nodded, touching Ginny's forearm reassuringly.

"Not in my mind," she replied sagely, "but in my philosophy."

Ginny reached over and gave Luna a hug. When she drew back, however, her eyes began darting around the room.

"They're all gone, aren't they?" she said suddenly.

"Who, Ginny?" Harry said, as softly as he could. "Who's gone?"

"I thought everyone had been late for breakfast," said Ginny, tears threatening to cascade down her eyes again. "But they're all gone. Lavender - you remember Lavender, don't you, Harry? Giggly, stupid girl in your class? Mad about Divination?"

"I'm sorry, Ginny, I - "

"Colin!" Ginny shouted. "Always carries a camera around. Annoying little - dating my roommate, Amanda?"

Ginny's question was met once again with only blank stares.

"Dean! You must remember Dean! My - my - your roommate," she looked up at Harry and Ron. "Mad about Westham football?"

"What's football?" asked Ron.

"Dennis, Justin, my roommate Catherine, Arabella," Ginny turned a desperate looking face to Harry, "your chaser, Harry. The youngest chaser in a generation. You remember her, don't you? But you don't, do you?" she added before Harry could respond. "None of you remember them, any of them."

Luna nodded shrewdly. "There must be more of them than I thought."

"All of the Muggle-borns are gone," Ginny went on, ignoring her.

"Muggle-borns?" said Ron incredulously, now looking at his sister with a mixture of disbelief and worry. "At Hogwarts?"

"Yes!"

Ron raised his hands in self-defense. "Whatever you say, Gin, but there haven't ever been any Muggle-borns in Hogwarts. At least I don't think there have," he added equivocally. "Dumbledore's been trying to push it for years, of course, but even I have to say he's a bit of his rocker about that. I mean Harry here can do magic just fine - no offense, mate."

Harry shook his head quickly.

"And even Seamus has been known to do a bit on occasion," Ron added, "but _completely_ Muggle born? You mean both parents are Muggles? It wouldn't be fair to them, would it? I mean, I don't suppose they could so much as lift a feather with a - "

"YES, THEY COULD!"

"All right, all right!" protested Ron, holding up his hands again.

"Don't you understand what's happened?" said Ginny, opening and closing her hands on the table in front of her. "_He's_ come back! He's taken them away! _Malfoy_ knows; all the Death Eaters must know! But none of the rest of you remember. He must have done something, some kind of memory charm." She pointed past a frightened-looking Neville to the Remembrall that still sat on the table. "_That's _what he can't remember! That's what none of you can remember. But I don't know why." She sighed wearily and let her head fall back onto Harry's shoulder.

"Who, Ginny?" asked Harry gently, gingerly touching her shoulder as though afraid it would spontaneously combust. "Who's he?"

"Kwiluxital, the chief xenophobe, or as the aliens like to call him, the grand pu - "

"VOLDEMORT!"

There was dead silence all around the Great Hall. The sound of knives and forks on plates all around them had come to an ominous stop. Even Luna seemed at a loss for words.

"OR HAVE YOU ALL FORGOTTEN HIM AS WELL?"

There was a very sickening pause. Harry drew back from Ginny again and stared at her with an expression that left little doubt that he remembered exactly who Voldemort was. Sweat began to break out on Neville's forehead. And just when the tension seemed to be wound so tightly it could not break, a voice cut through the air behind them that made each of the Gryffindors long for awkward silence once more.

"I wish I could say I was surprised to find the source of disturbance at this table," remarked Snape coolly. "But as it is I am not. It never ceases to amaze me that the amount of trouble that your house seems to cause is inversely proportional to the dwindling number of students it attracts each year. I'm afraid that once again you will find yourselves in negative territory on the very first day of the new term: let us see, that will be ten points from Miss Weasley for disturbing the peace of the rest of the school by shouting the Dark Lord's name out loud; five points from Mr. Longbottom for creating a general distraction with that oversized carnival toy; and another five points from Mr. Potter for the insolent manner in which you are now looking at me and a great deal more if you find yourself unable to restrain the expletive I know this very moment is dancing on the corner of your lips."

But it was Ron who spoke.

"Can't you see she's not well?" he said through clenched teeth. "You miserable, cold-hearted..."

Ron stopped himself from speaking any further, though judging from the apple-red color of his cheek and the vein that throbbed in the corner of his neck, it was not without a great deal of self-restraint, self-restraint that Snape seemed determined to put to a further test.

"Please do continue, Mr. Weasley," he said, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. "After all, I would not want to do anything to tarnish Slytherin's impeccable record at winning the house cup. Come now, where is that famous Gryffindor bravery? Surely no number of house points or detentions should mean anything to you? Very well, then, if you insist on remaining speechless, I suppose I can take a tally of where you stand at this point. I consider myself generous in deducting only twenty-five points for your ill-mannered outburst. And you may consider your prefect privileges on probation. Professor Dumbledore may insist on giving leadership responsibilities to a quota of students from your very small house but I, for one, know that there are a far greater number of deserving Slytherins ready to take them up."

Snape paused only to look at his watch.

"I also consider myself very kind in reminding Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom here that they have only fifteen minutes left until their Potions class begins. Should you be late, you may find that it costs you far more than a few house points."

And without another word, Snape drew his cloak around him and swept out of the hall in long, quiet strides.

There was another long moment of silence during which Neville was heard to audibly gulp. Then, seeming to regain a measure of her composure, Ginny sighed and said:

"You'd better go on to Potions. Remember what he said to you at the end of last year in the hospital wing, Harry. He's looking for any excuse to be awful to you. You'd better not give it to him."

Ron sighed, too, and sat down again in front of his sister.

"Look, Ginny, I - I reckon Malfoy might have put some kind of hex on you, when he took hold of you like that, some kind of revenge for your bat-bogey hex or something. I - I really think I ought to take you up to see Madam Pomfrey." A look of anger suddenly passed over Ron's face. "I don't care what that old git does to me! I'll go over his head to McGonagall or Dumbledore if I have to; something's not right with you and I'm not letting my sister - "

Ron stopped suddenly, startled, as Ginny took hold of his hand and looked him directly in the eye.

"Ron, I know everything you've said here this morning you've said because you want to take care of me. But I know what I know and nothing's going to change that. It's you - all of you - that should be going to see Madam Pomfrey, not me, and I'm going to find out why."

Once again, no one spoke. Then Ginny took her hand away and added:

"Come on, then, you're going to be late."

With great reluctance, Ron, Harry, Neville, and Luna got to their feet and made their way toward the exit of the Great Hall, trailed by Ginny. A moment later, Amanda ran into the hall to find her roommate and anxiously remind her that there were just ten minutes left until their first day of N.E.W.T. Defense Against the Dark Arts. On seeing Ginny's puffy eyes, however, she could tell immediately that something was wrong, but Ginny just looked back at her friend a little sadly and insisted that nothing was the matter. After they had exited the hall, the sixth and seventh years turned off in different directions to their respective lessons, but before they had separated entirely, Ginny laced her fingers tightly through Harry's and pulled him toward her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured as the others instinctively withdrew. "I never should have made that remark about you and Voldemort. I know you could never forget."

Harry shook his head. "You weren't saying it just to me," he said quietly so that only Ginny could hear. "And if I really have forgotten my best friend in the whole world then I suppose I might have forgotten just about anything." He swallowed anxiously. "I wish I knew what I could say to help."

Harry's heart sank as he saw Ginny's eyes swim with tears again. She leaned in even closer, took hold of his hands, and looked up into his eyes.

"You believe me, Harry, don't you?" she said pleadingly. "I need you to believe me."

Harry's heart felt like a rock in his chest. He did not doubt for one instant that Ginny believed that what she had said to him was true. But her words that morning had seemed so fantastic; how could he believe her? Yet even as he decided that he could never fulfill Ginny's wish no matter how much he might want to, he felt his head nod up and down, as if of its own accord.

"But you still don't remember them, do you?" asked Ginny, as if reading his thoughts.

"I - I'm sorry," said Harry haltingly.

He could hardly meet Ginny's gaze now. He felt like the worst of hypocrites. He was so sure he had just delivered the worst possible combination of truth and lies for what Ginny most needed to hear that it came as a complete surprise when she reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered.

* * *

In all of the years that Snape had ruthlessly tormented him in class, Harry could not remember ever having felt angrier at the Potions Master. Now, when Ginny really needed him, he couldn't be there with her. He was going to be sitting here rotting in this stinking dungeon listening to Snape find the best possible way to humiliate him in front of the lopsided number of Slytherins - just as he always did. Snape had taken his grudge on Harry out on Ginny; he was sure of it. Snape had always made Harry feel wronged, horribly angry, incensed even. But now that Snape was hurting Ginny, Harry could feel a rage toward the Potions Master that seemed to burn like a tower of tinder in his gut.

Harry was vaguely aware that Ron was trying to say something to him as they sat waiting for Snape to walk in. He tried to concentrate on his best friend's words but he found it difficult to get the image of his hands around Snape's throat out of his mind.

"As soon as we're finished here, I'm taking her up to see Madam Pomfrey," Harry was vaguely aware he was saying. "I don't care what she says."

Harry nodded mutely.

"If she has any sense, she'll take herself there right now instead going to Defense Against the Dark Arts. It's only Grubbly-Plank, anyhow."

"What?" said Harry, seeming to notice only now that he was supposed to be in a conversation. "No, Ron, she's going to want to see Dumbledore. She'll be waiting outside the classroom for us to go together."

It was Ron's turn to sound startled. "What? When did you arrange this?"

"We didn't but she will, trust me."

Ron leaned in closer to his best friend.

"Look, Harry, you don't really believe - I mean, all this stuff about Muggle-borns? At first I thought she was joking but now I think Malfoy must have done something to her."

Harry sighed and looked ahead. He had to agree that Ron was probably right. It certainly seemed by far the most likely explanation. He looked over to the table slightly ahead and to his left where Malfoy was sitting between Crabbe and Goyle, his mouth open in a slightly sardonic smile. Crabbe and Goyle were rocking up and down like giant globs of jelly apparently after Malfoy had just told an amusing joke - most likely about what he had done to Ginny. As the laughter died down, Malfoy laced his fingers casually behind his head and leaned back in his chair.

"Yeah," said Harry finally. "Yeah, I think you're probably right."

"That's why we have to take her up to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey - "

But Ron's plan was immediately cut off when the door to the Potions classroom swung open and Snape quickly marched into the room. The Potions Master had the effect of causing all conversation to grind to an abrupt halt as he had every year since their first.

But on this occasion, there was one exception.

There was a low but clearly audible murmur of talk in the room as Snape walked to the front and turned to face the class. His lips drew in a thin line as his eyes darted around the class for the source of the disturbance, a mixture of surprise and anger on his face. His eyes first came to rest on Harry and Ron. Feeling an extremely small rush of vindication that he was not the guilty party this time, Harry found it difficult to keep from smiling, but since he knew that Snape was looking for any excuse to take out his ire on him, he forced himself to remain stoic.

It did not take more than half a second for Snape to ascertain that the extremely few students in the class who were not in Slytherin were not the ones responsible for disturbing his lesson. Another half second later, both Snape and Harry had pinpointed its exact source: Malfoy was still in whispered conversation with Goyle, who for his part was putting his finger to his lips and pointing nervously up at Snape. Malfoy, however, continued to talk regardless and seemed oblivious to Goyle's hints that he should stop.

Snape cleared his throat loudly but Malfoy managed to stop talking only long enough to laugh at one of his own jokes to which Goyle now seemed far from amused.

"Mr. Malfoy," said Snape, in a tone of voice that Harry was sure could have cut through the stone walls surrounding the classroom if he had so desired.

Malfoy looked around for a moment as though unsure where the voice was coming from. After having looked in almost every other part of the room, he finally settled on Snape.

"I'm sorry?" he said, his face a picture of mock surprise.

Color rising in his cheeks, Snape strode purposefully over to the desk in front of which Malfoy was sitting, placed his long bony fingers on top of it, and looked the Slytherin directly in the eye.

"You will carry on your private conversations, elsewhere, Mr. Malfoy. _And put your hands on the desk in front of you and sit properly like you were taught to do as a first-year!"_

If Malfoy was startled by Snape's reaction, he did not show it. Staring unblinkingly back at the Potions Master, Malfoy took his hands from behind his head and placed them back down on the table as Snape had requested.

"That will do," muttered Snape, looking back fiercely at Malfoy who continued to meet his stare.

Harry and Ron knew better than to discuss this incident while class was going on and Snape was now even more eager to find a scapegoat for Malfoy's behavior. Nevertheless, they still exchanged a significant look. Harry found that he had not considered how Snape and Malfoy might behave toward each other now that Snape had been revealed as a traitor who had delivered Voldemort - and Malfoy's father - to Dumbledore and the Order. But now having thought about this more carefully, he doubted that Malfoy would be quieted so easily.

He was not wrong.

Snape returned to the front of the classroom and folded his arms again. He did not speak for a few seconds, which Harry knew was merely a tactic to instill a sense of uncertainty and unease in the remaining students. It did not prevent him from feeling any less angry toward Snape, however, especially when he saw a very nervous lump travel up and down Neville's throat.

"No one regrets more than I the sad circumstances in which your first two years of N.E.W.T. Potions were carried out," began Snape. "However, I want to make it very well understood that I expect everyone in this class to be fully prepared for their N.E. come next spring. This means, of course, that you will have even more than the usual amount of work to complete for the test. I admit my concern that some of you are not prepared to handle this heavy burden. That is why I am perfectly happy to respect the wishes of any student who desires to bow out of the class at this point. I suggest this out of concern for your own personal safety."

Snape's mouth curled up in a leering smile as his gaze lingered at Neville who, to his credit, managed not to flinch this time. There was a long pause and then Snape continued.

"As there are no takers of my most generous offer - for the time being, at least - please open your textbooks to page six. You will find there a detailed recipe for - "

Snape stopped talking as two loud thudding sounds resounded through the otherwise silent room. This time, it took neither Snape nor Harry any time at all to locate their source in the form of Malfoy's boots which now sat, attached to their owner, on top of his desk, pointing directly up at Snape. Malfoy was leaning back in his chair and had crossed his fingers behind his head again.

Snape's complexion looked as if it could not decide whether to turn a blotchy red or a ghostly pale white. He did not say a word, however, but walked quickly up to Malfoy's desk, grabbed hold of his ankles, and forcibly pushed them back down to the floor, causing Malfoy to sit back upright very quickly. Snape continued to stare down at his erstwhile apprentice, not seeming quite sure for a moment what to say to him.

"As much as this pains me," Snape finally said, "you have left me with no other choice, Mr. Malfoy, than to take five points from Slytherin for your continued impertinence."

This time Ron did not seem able to restrain himself.

"_Five _points?" he whispered across to Harry.

Harry's finger went quickly to his lips and he looked back at Snape, expecting a far heavier loss of points to be swinging Gryffindor's way for Ron's remark. But Snape seemed so angry with Malfoy that it seemed, for once, that he hadn't even noticed Ron speak up. In any case, Ron's surprised exclamation seemed to have been lost in a general flurry of whispering that carried uncharacteristically through the classroom.

Malfoy continued to stare up at Snape defiantly.

"Sorry about that," he drawled. "I was getting uncomfortable."

Snape looked livid. "You will be getting a great deal more uncomfortable very soon, Mr. Malfoy, if you do not find some way to sit still and pay attention during my lesson!"

"I'll try my best but can't you speed things up a bit?" he replied lazily. "I find myself easily bored sitting here listening to you prattle on about things I already know, _Severus._"

The whispering had now come to a very sudden stop. In fact, it seemed that most of the occupants in the classroom had forgotten to breathe.

Snape paused and stared at Malfoy again. A stunned expression flickered across his face only very briefly, but long enough for Harry to notice and experience no small amount of satisfaction. Then his face seemed to decide to go very blotchy indeed.

"When you are in my classroom, Mr. Malfoy, I expect you to treat me with nothing less than the highest respect. _Fifty_ points will now be taken from Slytherin for your _obscene truculence_! You will also report to me for detention this evening at eight o'clock. _And _tomorrow night. _And _the next night after that!"

"Is there anything else you want to say to me, _Severus_? Because I told you already I'm bored enough as it is."

The room was not completely silent this time. A single soft moan, not unlike the sound of a dying swan, had found its way out of Crabbe's lips. Harry, for his part, however, found himself hoping that things were just getting started.

Snape did not go a further shade of red this time, however. He merely smiled with a cruelty that he normally reserved for victims of Harry's own house.

"Do you think we do not all understand, Mr. Malfoy, where your little game is coming from? How horribly put out you must be that I put your worthless excuse for a father back in Azkaban where he belongs?"

Malfoy got to his feet, his wand out of his robes and pointed directly at Snape, his nonchalant manner now vanished completely. Harry watched as his eyes filled with hatred. He was all but certain that this was no bluff at all: it would only be a matter of moments before he hexed Snape.

But the Potions Master made no move at all for his own wand. He continued to stand watching Malfoy as though he could do nothing to harm him. Moreover, he continued to smile, almost to himself, as though pleased he'd achieved precisely the response he'd intended.

"Pointing a wand at a Hogwarts teacher is an expellable offense," he remarked calmly. "However, for the time being, I will content myself with your removal from this classroom. You will report immediately to Professor McGonagall who, as deputy headmistress, is responsible for addressing all serious infractions of discipline. I will leave it to her to decide whether to take the matter up further with Professor Dumbledore. I remind you, however, that the question of your continued attendance at this school is still for me to decide. I advise to you to tread very carefully indeed. Mr. Goyle, you will confiscate Mr. Malfoy's wand."

Goyle whimpered.

"DO IT NOW, YOU FOOLISH CHILD!"

Seeming to regain something of his casual demeanor, Malfoy flicked his wand around and gave the handle end to Goyle who received it with a slightly astonished relief. Then, without another word, he turned and strode out of the classroom. Harry did not fail to notice that the smile on Snape's lips did not disappear as he left.

* * *

Ginny tried to calm herself as she stood waiting for Ron and Harry to emerge from the Potions classroom, occasionally glancing at her watch. They were late now. No doubt Snape was behaving ruthlessly. She went over her plan again and again in her mind: she was going to take Harry and go straight to Dumbledore. Not only was the school and the missing students his responsibility, she was sure that if anyone still remembered them besides her, it would be him. If Ron wanted to come, too, that was fine, but he'd better not get in the way.

Ginny was starting to turn this plan over in her mind from the beginning again when the door to the Potions room swung open, startling her. She was surprised and unprepared to see the Slytherins emerge: in the reality she had remembered, the seventh-year Gryffindors had not taken their Potions N.E. together with the Slytherins; she had remembered Harry, Ron, and Hermione remarking on the pleasant change of circumstances. But judging from the looks of things now, all four of the houses were in one smaller class, no doubt a consequence of the smaller population of the school. It also came as little surprise that there seemed to be more students from Slytherin in the class than all of the other houses combined: of course, Ginny realized, most of the Muggle-borns had been in other houses, hadn't they? Most especially her own.

She felt herself tense as she realized that Malfoy would have been in the class also and then immediately felt angry with herself for feeling afraid. But Malfoy did not seem to be among the first group of Slytherins and, before long, Crabbe and Goyle emerged by themselves, looking somewhat uncertain as to where to walk without the customary presence of their leader. Ginny was still wondering where Malfoy had gotten to when she spotted Ron's lanky frame behind them. As Crabbe and Goyle passed from view, she let out a small gasp as she saw that Ron and Seamus were supporting Neville between them, trailed closely by Harry. The left side of Neville's face was covered in large purple boils and his left leg seemed twisted oddly as if he was crippled.

"What happened?"

"Snape," said Harry angrily. "He was absolutely awful!"

"He kept standing in front of him and menacing him the whole class," added Seamus, his Irish lilt aroused.

"I couldn't concentrate after that," moaned Neville. "I reckon I must have gotten the recipe wrong. Anyhow, it all blew up in my face."

"And Snape just stood there and laughed at him," finished Ron, his face flushed red.

"Well, are you going to be OK?" Ginny asked Neville, who looked as though he could scarcely manage to concentrate on what she was saying.

It was Seamus who responded.

"We're taking him up to the hospital wing."

"You should come with us, too," said Ron, looking suddenly hopeful. "Maybe Madam Pomfrey can have a look at your - well - do you still..." His voice trailed off a little tepidly.

"Do I still remember my closest friends and housemates?" retorted Ginny, trying unsuccessfully to force back her anger. "Yes, I do, Ron!"

"Look, maybe - "

"I'm going to see Dumbledore," declared Ginny before Ron could get any further.

"I'll go with you," said Harry quickly. He turned to Ron. "You and Seamus take Neville up to the hospital wing. We'll join you there later."

Ron looked about to object but he could see right away that his sister would not be easily swayed. He'd just have to hope that the headmaster would manage to abandon his own crusade to allow the Muggle-borns to be admitted to the school long enough to point her in the direction of the hospital wing himself. Or to St. Mungo's if he had to.

"All right, but tell me what's going on," he said.

It was Harry who replied:

"You'll find out soon, mate. Now go on!"

Neville let out another moan just as Harry was finishing his sentence. Ron reluctantly turned to help Seamus up the steps with him and Harry quickly took Ginny's hand and they strode up in the direction of Dumbledore's office.

Few words passed between Harry and Ginny as they walked briskly down the corridors but Ginny's body language told a different story: she kept running her hand up and down his palm and clutching her fingers tightly between his.

"Are you all right?" he whispered softly into her ear as they walked down the last corridor before Dumbledore's office.

Ginny gave his hand another squeeze.

"I've gotten used to it now," she said. "And it's not the first time I know something no one else does. But at least this time I didn't keep quiet about it. And I'm not alone." She looked across hopefully into Harry's eyes.

Harry squeezed her hand and smiled as best he could.

"We'll sort this one out," he said, trying to sound more reassured than he felt.

They had now reached the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Harry was just thinking that he did not know the password when the gargoyle covering the entrance swung open and Professor McGonagall stepped out of the staircase that had now revealed itself.

"Off to see Professor Dumbledore?" she asked a rather startled looking Harry and Ginny who managed to nod. "Off you go, then." She gestured her hand in the direction of the moving staircase. "Perhaps you'll have better luck than I did!"

And then tutting to no one in particular, McGonagall walked down the corridor back in the direction from which Harry and Ginny had just come.

Shrugging their mutual confusion, Harry and Ginny mounted the moving staircase. Harry reached his hand toward the brass Griffin knocker on the door to Dumbledore's office at the same time that the headmaster himself was opening the door.

"It seems that everyone is afraid I might be left alone this morning," he remarked cheerfully. "Come in, come in."

Ginny tugged on Harry's hand and pulled him quickly toward one of the two chairs that sat in front of Dumbledore's desk. He could tell right away that she had not been pleased to see that the headmaster's mood was just as buoyant as it had been during the feast the night before despite the fact that now, as far as she was concerned, crisis had descended on the school.

Dumbledore seemed to take an inordinate amount of time pouring them tea. Harry could sense Ginny fidgeting nervously. Finally, Dumbledore poured them both a cup. He then sat down and, without losing the twinkle in his eye, said:

"Now what can I do for the two of you?"

Harry started to open his mouth but forced the words down. It was Ginny who had wanted to see Dumbledore and it was she who should have the first say.

Despite turning over in her mind what she was planning to ask Dumbledore all morning, however, Ginny did not feel very sure exactly how to put things now that she sat across from him. She finally cupped her chin in her hands, let out a long sigh, and said:

"I feel like I'm living in an alternate universe, sir."

Dumbledore nodded sympathetically. "Believe me, I know just how you feel. But perhaps you could be a touch more precise?"

Ginny went through several false starts before she finally managed to describe everything that had happened since breakfast that morning when, as she saw it, a sizeable portion of the school had vanished without a trace. She looked mostly down at Dumbledore's desk as she spoke, only now and then looking up into his eyes before lowering her head again, afraid to study too closely the effect her words were having. When she had finished speaking, however, she summoned up the courage to look up at the headmaster and ask:

"Do you remember them, sir?"

Dumbledore crossed his hands slowly and looked back at Ginny. He did not respond right away but the look in the eyes confirmed her worst fears. She leaned in slightly closer as if by doing so, she could uncover another of the headmaster's convoluted schemes lurking beneath his deceptively innocent gaze. But try as she might, all she could find was confusion. When Dumbledore finally shook his head, she found that it came as little surprise.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," he said. "The world you describe is one I have dreamed of for some while. But I fear that, so far as I am aware, it is just that: a dream."

Ginny shook her head far more vigorously than Dumbledore.

"It's not, sir. It's real. They were here - in this school. They were my friends, _our _friends. And they could do magic just fine."

Dumbledore followed her gaze over to Harry who seemed on the pointing of saying something.

But it was Ginny who spoke again.

"It's _him_, sir. I know it is," Ginny pressed on, trying hard to fight a renewed feeling of panic and despair from growing inside her. "Tom - Voldemort. He's back. Only he could possess the magic to fool even you!"

Harry was not quite sure how Dumbledore was going to respond to this and he was becoming very anxious both about how the headmaster might react and what effect it would have on Ginny's already frazzled state of mind. He did not feel very reassured when Dumbledore chose to walk around to the other side of his desk and peer down into Harry's teacup.

"I see you've managed to drink that up quite quickly," he remarked.

Harry stared down at his teacup, surprised to find that it was empty even though he could not remember having touched it.

"No matter," added Dumbledore. "There's more here."

He reached behind the desk and produced another pot of tea that Harry was sure looked slightly different from the one that had sat on his desk when he had last paid attention. As though he had nothing better to do, Dumbledore slowly poured him another cup before adding more to his own.

"Drink up," he said, holding the cup to his mouth as if teaching Harry how to drink tea for the very first time.

Ginny, for her part, had little interest in teacups.

"Don't you see, sir?" she added, her voice raised more boldly this time. "We've got to stop him! We've got to find some way of getting everyone's memories back and then we've got to find what he's done with the Muggle-borns before it's too late!"

Harry nervously brought the teacup to his mouth and sipped it.

_You need to take her to see Madam Pomfrey, Harry,_ said a voice inside his head that sounded exactly like Dumbledore's. _This could be quite serious._

Ginny looked over at Harry curiously as he spluttered out the tea he was sipping all over the floor.

"Easy now, Harry," said Dumbledore. He turned to Ginny and sighed again. "I'm not sure I would know how to begin doing that, Ginny," he replied. "Especially as I'm afraid, as you say, that I don't remember the first thing about what you say has happened."

_The tea,_ the voice went on inside Harry's head. _It's a bit like the _Synchronis Totalis_ charm if you remember. _

"But you're supposed to know!" Ginny protested, looking increasingly anxious even as Harry reached over to put a supportive arm around her shoulder.

_She is telling the truth as she sees it, _the voice continued. _It could be she is suffering from quite a powerful memory charm, from whom or what I cannot say, but it is important that she receive medical attention as quickly as possible. We may even have to take her to St. Mungo's._

"If you can't help!" Ginny went on, now sounding slightly hysterical. "I don't know who can!"

Harry looked between Ginny and Dumbledore.

_Why don't you tell her yourself?_ he thought back angrily in his mind.

Dumbledore looked at Harry and raised his eyebrows before turning back to Ginny.

"I am sorry to disappoint you, Ginny, but I know neither what has happened nor how I could possibly help."

Ginny sighed loudly and began looking around the office as though there was someone or something that might listen to reason. But even if the portraits that surrounded the walls were listening and not fast asleep as they appeared to be, none of them seemed either willing or able to assist.

_I fully intend to,_ said Dumbledore's voice in Harry's head again. _But I have not lasted in this position as long as I have without learning to see something of what is in the character of others. Ginny is becoming as stubborn as her mother was and I fear she will not listen to me. But she might listen to you._

Before Harry could respond, Dumbledore looked closely at Ginny and said very seriously:

"I must ask you to pay a visit to the hospital wing, Ginny. This is not a request. I know that what you are thinking must seem very real to you, but it is also possible that you are under the influence of a powerful memory charm. If, in fact, there is nothing wrong with you, then there is no harm done. But if there is, then we will have succeeded in relieving you from any further - and perhaps more serious - distress."

"I didn't come in here because I wanted to stop feeling hurt!" retorted Ginny angrily. "I came in here because I want them back! I want them all back! And I'm not going to stop at anything until they do come back!"

Without turning his head away from Ginny, Dumbledore's eyes traveled almost imperceptibly to meet Harry's. He did not need the headmaster's telepathic tea to tell him what he was thinking now.

"You may be right, Ginny," replied Dumbledore with a calm that she suddenly found infuriating. "But put yourself in my position. You're asking me to believe that I have forgotten what has occurred in the last one thousand years of the history of our people and believe instead that what you are telling me is correct. I can only ask that you consider honestly which is the more reasonable thing for me to suppose: that I and everyone else in this school are suffering some form of mass delusion or that it is you instead who may be unwell?"

Ginny let out such a heavy sigh that with her deeply flushed complexion and fire-red hair, she suddenly seemed to resemble a Chinese fireball. She looked up at Dumbledore and said with a note of resignation:

"All right, I'll go and see Madam Pomfrey, then."

Harry could not restrain a satisfied smile from spreading over his face as an expression of pleasant surprise traveled briefly across Dumbledore's features. Then Ginny added:

"If only to help to convince you that what I'm saying is right!"

"Believe me, Ginny," said Dumbledore truthfully. "I would like nothing better than to believe that what you have told me is true."

"And I'm only going on one condition," added Ginny, getting to her feet.

"I'll try my best," replied Dumbledore, not appearing the least bit offended that Ginny felt in a position to set conditions.

"In case I am right, just be - please be alert."

"I am always alert, Ginny," said Dumbledore seriously. "I will be until Lord Voldemort is gone forever and even after that."

Appearing grudgingly satisfied, Ginny made for the door but Harry did not move right away.

"What about Malfoy?" he asked Dumbledore. "Ginny told you what he said to her."

Dumbledore nodded soberly.

"It may be that Mr. Malfoy is still privy to certain information - information he has gained from dark forces that continue to remain at large. It may be that he is aware of the source of the curse that is ailing Ginny and that he is unable to resist taunting her about it. It may even be that he cast it himself, though I doubt he would be capable of something quite so powerful. Nevertheless," he added quickly as Harry seemed on the point of objecting. "I promise you both that he is already being watched closely, especially after the incident in Professor Snape's potions lesson that Professor McGonagall was in here informing me about shortly before you arrived. And as I told her then and I will tell you now: we are far better off giving him as free a reign as possible. For he has proved valuable in letting slip important information in the past and I have every reason to believe he will again this time."

Harry looked even less satisfied with Dumbledore's answer than Ginny had but he, too, got up from his chair and turned to leave.

Dumbledore watched with a slight sigh of his own as Ginny and Harry left the office. He went back behind his desk and began, very methodically, to put away his own tea things. He thought of using magic but he found the slow rearrangement of pots and cups somewhat calming. He looked down at Ginny's untouched cup a little ruefully. There was something wrong with her, he could sense it. And he had told her he was always on the alert: indeed, ever since Tom Riddle had first opened the Chamber of Secrets, it had always been Dumbledore himself that had warned others of the danger he had presented even before they had realized it themselves. But would it be so again the next time?

A few minutes passed and Dumbledore still found himself staring down at Ginny's teacup. He was woken from his reverie by another knock on his door.

"Oh, dear," he said to himself. "At this rate, I shall never finish early enough to make the magic carpet sale on time." And then in a louder voice added: "Come in!"

The door opened very slowly and the fourth visitor to Dumbledore's office that morning stepped inside. But this time, the headmaster did not gesture to the chair in front of his desk or arrange to brew a fresh pot of tea. Instead, the teacup he had been holding in his hand fell to the desktop with a crash spraying delicate pieces of china amongst Dumbledore's scattered possessions. His half-moon glasses fell to the edge of his nose as he examined the visitor more closely. The twinkle in his eyes vanished abruptly, perhaps never to return. When he spoke it was not with the quiet confidence on which the wizarding world had come to rely but with the raspy confusion of a very old man.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "_What _are you?"

The visitor paused for a moment before replying:

"You know who I am."

* * *

Harry was not at all certain whether Ginny was leading him toward the hospital wing and he wasn't sure he should ask. He could not help the sigh of relief that escaped his lips when she led him by the hand to the hallway that could only lead in that direction.

"You thought I wasn't going, didn't you?"

"I - I wasn't sure."

"I'm going if only to prove I'm right!" said Ginny again. "Besides," she added with a little less confidence, "I'm not sure what much else I can do at this point."

"I'm sorry about Dumbledore."

To Harry's surprise, Ginny smiled.

"Oh, Harry, when are you going to realize certain things just aren't your fault? It was _my _idea, remember?"

"Ginny," said Harry, preparing to choose his words carefully. "I'm not saying you're wrong or anything but don't you think that if Voldemort had returned, I would have felt it somehow. I mean - my scar - it hasn't hurt one bit all day."

Ginny frowned. "I can't tell you the answer to that, Harry. I just know what I know."

Harry licked his lips.

"And I'm not sure I understand how is it _you_ remember when nobody else does."

Ginny continued to smile but the color left her cheeks.

"That I _can_ tell you," she said quietly. "You could destroy that diary a hundred times. But until he's gone for good, I will always know something of him and him of me."

Harry was not sure how to respond to that. They walked on silently for a moment until Ginny frowned and said:

"Harry, when Ron was saying at breakfast that there had never been any Muggle-borns, he said that _you_ could 'do magic just fine.' What did he mean?"

"Well," said Harry, trying to disguise his concern at Ginny's lapse in memory. "My mother was Muggle-born."

"But then how did your parents meet?"

Harry's brow creased for just a moment as though trying to extract a memory from somewhere within his head. For one heart-stopping moment, Ginny thought that she might have stumped him, but then he replied:

"They lived near each other when they grew up. My mother met my father at a dance, at least that's what Sirius told me. It was in the summer when school - "

But Ginny was already shaking her head fiercely.

"No, Harry, that's not how it happened at all! Your mother went to school here, too!"

"But that's not possible! She was a Muggle-born and no Muggle-borns ..."

His voice trailed off.

"I'm sorry," he finished feebly. "But that's just how I remember it."

"Please don't say you're sorry anymore, Harry," Ginny said with a strange mixture of admonition and pity in her eyes. "And if it means the same to you, I hope Madam Pomfrey _does_ find something wrong with me. It's much better than the alternative."

Ginny was surprised when Harry stopped walking, took hold of her by the shoulders, and swung her around to face him.

"No," he said firmly. "Don't say that. No matter what I remember or anyone else remembers, don't. I know what it felt like: no one believed me when I could do magic with the Dursleys. I didn't believe it myself. But it was true. It's worst of all when you don't feel you can trust your own memories."

Ginny's face softened. She ran her fingers gently through Harry's unruly hair. She reached up to take his face in her hands and planted a light kiss on his lips.

"I'm glad I finally told you what I should have said ages ago," she whispered.

Harry did not reply in words but drew her close to him. Even as he held her that way every night now before they went to bed, she still didn't fail to feel tingles rush up and down her body as they touched.

"Don't you disappear, too," she said into his ear.

"Don't worry, I won't."

Ginny closed her eyes and let herself stay in the embrace a moment longer.

You'd better not, she thought.

* * *

Dumbledore tried to steady his shaking fingers as he poured tea into the two cups he had placed on the desk in front of him, but he succeeded in pouring most of it over the table.

"I think it would be best if you dispensed with the tea this time," the visitor said calmly. "I don't think you'll find it easy to read my thoughts in any case."

Dumbledore put the teapot down on the desk and sat down awkwardly in his chair. He forced himself to look across at the visitor again, his eyes still wide in fear.

"All is not right, Dumbledore. All is not right at all."

Dumbledore sighed spasmodically. "I had gathered as much." He swallowed and tried to force away the tremor in his voice more successfully than he had stopped the quivering of his hand. "What is it you want?" he asked finally.

The visitor let out a hollow laugh. "You always assume the worst of me. I understand you still have a vacancy for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Master. I would like to apply."

* * *

Night had fallen by the time Snape made his way toward the dungeons. He felt inside his pocket a second time to make sure that his wand was still there. He had taken a calculated risk in class. He had had to make it clear to Malfoy and everyone else who exactly was in charge. But while Albus Dumbledore might have found it noble to sacrifice himself for the sake of some abstract ideals of brotherhood and forgiveness, Snape was no fool. And if it took him to save the rest of the school from the consequences of their own stupidity, then so be it, so long as it saved him as well.

There was a time when Snape had seen part of himself in Draco Malfoy. Perhaps he still did. But he was increasingly sure it was the part that he didn't like.

And Snape was wise enough to know what Dumbledore still refused to admit to himself: Draco Malfoy was no longer a rambunctious school child who could be made to shine in the garish light of Gryffindor wisdom. He was a Death Eater like his father and so long as there was a Death Eater in the school, they were all in danger - most particularly him.

It was a dangerous game that Snape was preparing to play and he knew it. But Dumbledore would never have felt happy if he had expelled Malfoy just for pointing a wand at him in class. The choice to expel Malfoy might rest with him but Snape was shrewd enough to know that he would not get far without the headmaster's support and for that, Malfoy would have to do something inexcusable. And if everything went well that evening, that is exactly what he would do. Snape felt fortunate that he always kept a silencing charm around his office.

As he walked down the last steps to his office, Snape looked at his watch. It was almost half past eight. With any luck, and with everything else that had taken place that day, Malfoy's patience would be sorely tested by the time he arrived. It wouldn't take very much more to push him past the breaking point.

But as Snape reached the bottom step and looked out down the corridor against which stood the door to his office, he let out a dissatisfied hiss that would have impressed anyone nearby with how close it sounded to the rattling breath of a Dementor. Malfoy was not there waiting for him. He had chosen to defy him again. No matter, thought Snape to himself as he approached the door. He could wait. And when Malfoy did arrive, it would that much easier to make the case against him.

Snape took out his wand and prepared to cast an unlocking charm when something made him pause. There was a flickering light coming from underneath his door. Snape wondered for a moment whether he had forgotten to snuff out his lantern the last time he had been inside. But he also knew that he never forgot to do things like that. Snape touched his wand carefully to his door and was surprised to find it ajar. He quickly used his hand to push it all the way open. He could not restrain himself from letting out an uncharacteristic gasp of surprise as he looked across to see Draco Malfoy nonchalantly sitting on top of his desk, tossing a very expensive glass snake paperweight up and down in his hand.

"I was wondering when you'd finally get here, Severus," he said. "Sitting here waiting has been almost as boring as sitting in one of your lessons."

"How did you get into my office?" demanded Snape.

"How should I know?" drawled Malfoy. "You must have left the door open."

Snape's lip curled up into a snarl. "I hardly think so. And as if you weren't in enough trouble as it is."

"Is that so?"

Malfoy threw the snake up into the air once more before letting it smash on the floor into pieces.

Snape's teeth were visible just for a moment but then he began to smile.

"You know, I thought it would be quite difficult to have you expelled," he said. "But now I see that I'll hardly have to lift a finger."

Malfoy's face lit up in mock surprise. "Me, expelled, Severus? Oh, but I'm afraid the only person who is going to be expelled from this school tonight is you."

Without waiting for Snape to respond, Malfoy reached into the pocket of his robes and picked out a live rat which he held by its tail. The rat pawed through the air frantically before Malfoy tossed it in Snape's direction. It was still in mid-air when it transformed into the pale, frightened figure of Peter Pettigrew.

Snape held his wand out in front of him but the smile never left his face.

"So," he said. "The errant Marauder finally surfaces. Well, this does explain a great deal. Though I admit I would have doubted that even you had the magical ability to open my door by yourself, Wormtail. And here I was hoping only to remove one Death Eater tonight. I never imagined I would come across you. They might even give me the Order of Merlin for this."

If Wormtail had paid attention to anything Snape had just said, he did not show it. Instead he turned around to face Malfoy and said:

"My Lord, I beg you. Do not go ahead with this. He is sure to be missed. The others - "

"The others will know nothing, Wormtail," said Malfoy impatiently, "so long as you play your part well."

Wormtail nodded but did not manage to restrain a whimper.

"My Lord?" said Snape mockingly, returning his attention to Malfoy. "Your arrogance begins to approach even that of your - "

Snape's words died in his throat as Malfoy held out his hand and Snape's wand traveled into his open palm like a fly to the mouth of a frog on the tip of its tongue.

For a moment there was no sound at all in the office save Wormtail's moaning which was starting to grow in pitch.

"You were saying, Severus?" Malfoy finally said, almost sweetly. "Please don't let me stop you. Though I wonder why you find it so strange that Wormtail addresses me by my rightful title. You used it once even as you were betraying me."

Malfoy flicked his wand. Snape let out a gasp and Wormtail a soft cry as Snape rose into the air and dangled several inches above the floor of his office.

"That's better," said Malfoy, toying with the wand in his hand. "You have spent so much time around Dumbledore you've inherited all of his weaknesses. Did you really think you could keep me away for long? Did you not suppose that I would seek out the most promising Death Eater left, the one the old fool was prepared to let back through the doors of this school with open arms?

"What is it, Severus?" asked Malfoy mockingly as Snape grew unable to restrain the fear and surprise on his face. "Are you uncomfortable?"

Malfoy flicked his wand again and Snape spun into an upright position, only now he was dangling from his neck. His face turned a milky white as he struggled against the curse that was strangling him.

"Are you not going to beg me for mercy?" Malfoy cooed. "Do you think, even now, of returning into my service, even as you sold me to those who desired only my death? Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Severus, for he always knows."

With an effort that nearly finished him, Snape coughed up his spittle into his mouth and tossed it out toward Malfoy.

Malfoy dodged the spit and looked up at Snape, his smile fading abruptly. He flicked his wand again and Snape flew headfirst toward the ceiling of his office, the weight of his body crushing several empty glass containers that had been hanging from hooks.

"It tests my will not to torture you and see you killed tonight," said Malfoy, his jaw setting just as Tom Riddle's once did. "But I have work for you, Severus. You've become just like the mudbloods now, I can see that. It is only fitting that you should be banished like them. At least I managed to make theirs a painless journey. I could not be bothered to waste my time doing the same for you!"

It proved very unfortunate for Snape that he had decided to cast a silencing charm over his office that night. For as the fiery orange triangle grew from his chest and spread out over his body, there was no one at all in the school who managed to hear him scream.


	3. The Art Of Illusion

**Chapter 3**

**The Art of Illusion**

Harry studied Ginny closely at they sat down together with Ron at breakfast the next morning. Apart from their lessons the previous afternoon and Harry's private discussion with Ron the night before about the upcoming liberation ball, they had spent nearly all of their time in each other's company since Ginny had been pronounced "clean of all unfriendly spells" by Madam Pomfrey.

Harry had expected Ginny to be triumphant after Madam Pomfrey had found nothing wrong with her. When Ron had tried to persuade her to report to Dumbledore that she needed to go to St. Mungo's, she simply refused and said that she was feeling fine. She had then mentioned little about the matter for the remainder of the day. Harry felt sure, however, that she did not plan to give up so easily. He was less certain what she was planning to do next and couldn't avoid the feeling that Ginny wasn't at all sure either.

Harry's ruminations were interrupted when Professor Harmon walked into the hall and drew swiftly up behind them.

"Quidditch tryouts later this week, I hear, Potter?" he said jovially.

"Yes, sir," replied Harry. "We've got quite a few vacancies this term so I wanted to get started early."

Harmon adjusted his thick-lensed spectacles and ran a hand through his silvery hair.

"Well, good luck, then, lad, not too much, mind you, of course!"

Harmon's chuckle faded as soon as he looked over at Ginny.

"Anything wrong, Weasley? You look a bit puzzled."

Harry looked at Ginny and noticed for the first time that she was staring at Harmon with a slightly confused and wide-eyed expression, a glass of pumpkin juice paused halfway to her lips. She did not answer long enough for Harmon to raise his eyebrows and tilt his chin to one side as if to point out that his question had not been meant rhetorically.

"Er, no - no, er, _Professor_," said Ginny slowly, still staring up at him. "Everything's fine, thanks."

"I must say I'm pleased to hear that. I'm afraid it wouldn't do to lose concentration on your first day of N.E.W.T. Potions and I'm sorry to say I've arranged a bit of a tricky recipe for you."

The glass of pumpkin juice fell to the floor with a smash.

Harmon flinched. "Oh, dear, I didn't mean to frighten you, Ginny. I'm sure you're up to the challenge, at any rate." He snapped his fingers. "You there! Big ears!" He pointed to a squat house-elf who was standing near the end of the table trying to look anonymous. "There's been a bit of a mess over here. Help us clear it up, there's a good chap! Anyway, I must be off," he said before the three Gryffindors could respond. "Head of house staff meeting. Dreadfully boring but no getting around it, I'm afraid. Cheerio, then!"

"Goodbye, Professor," said Harry, smiling.

"Cheers," added Ron.

But Ginny continued to sit and stare at the retreating Harmon as he made his way out of the hall. She made no move as the house-elf deftly maneuvered a mop between her feet to wipe up the pumpkin juice she had spilt.

"Oh, don't worry, Gin," said Ron. "Harmon's an old softie. I remember I was terrified of him my first year but he's quite a likeable bloke, really. It seems odd he was sorted into Slytherin, though. I expect if Dumbledore weren't the headmaster, he wouldn't be head of their house, either. Doesn't seem to fit in at all well with - "

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, ignoring Ron and continuing to look at Ginny's ever-widening eyes.

"I've never seen that man before in my life."

"What?" exclaimed Ron for the second time in as many days. "Stop pulling - you don't mean - " His own expression started to mirror his sister's. "Bloody hell! You're dead serious, aren't you? Look, Ginny, I really think - "

But Ginny did not seem interested in what Ron thought.

"Where's Professor Snape?" she demanded.

"Who?" chorused Harry and Ron.

Ginny let out a heavy groan.

"No!" she cried, banging her fist on the table. "This can't be happening! He was here - yesterday - _after _all this insanity had already started. He was the one who told me off for shouting about it at breakfast. _Don't either of you remember?"_

But it was obvious even before Ron and Harry had opened their mouths that they hadn't.

"B - but, Ginny," Ron finally said. "Harmon's taught Potions since before we were born! You can't tell me you think that didn't really happen!"

"I can and it didn't!" asserted Ginny. "I can't explain how but I know!"

"Ginny," said Harry calmly as Ron looked beside himself. "Who was this Professor Snape?"

Ginny sighed. Part of her felt as though she could not possibly stomach the effort to explain but then she half-talked, half-mumbled her way through a description of Snape's appearance, personality, and his turbulent relationship with Harry and the other Gryffindors.

"I remember something about a Snape, now," said Harry, his brows knitted. "Sirius and Professor Lupin used to talk about him. Their old school rival or something. Hated my father, apparently."

Ginny nodded encouragingly and began to look hopeful but then sighed again when Harry delivered his next sentence.

"But I'm sure Sirius said that he died in the first war. He was a spy or something. Voldemort found out and had him put to death."

"No, he didn't!" protested Ginny. "He survived; he was our Potions Master. He _is _our Potions Master!"

"Anyhow," said Ron dismissively. "He sounds an awful chap; we're best off without him."

"That's not the point, Ron! He's _supposed_ to be here. Goddess!" Ginny ran her hands through her hair in exasperation. "Is there going to be anyone left in this school by the end of term?"

Ron's face darkened suddenly. "I'm worried if there's going to be anything left of your memories." He licked his lips. "Ginny, I'm sorry but I think I'm going to owl Mum and Dad. This is serious; there's something wrong with you and it's something Madam Pomfrey didn't catch. If you don't get to St. Mungo's soon - "

"I'm not going to St. Mungo's and don't you dare tell Mum and Dad! They'll be sick with worry!"

"I'm sorry, Ginny, but it's not your choice this time." Ron straightened up and suddenly looked frighteningly like Percy. "If I don't look after you..."

Harry's attention started to wane as the banter between the two siblings deteriorated into familiar lines of argument. He was still thinking of a way he could safely interject and get back to the matter of solving Ginny's memory crisis when something caught his eye: Carolyn Woolsey, the Hufflepuff chaser Ron had been eyeing ever since the middle of last year, had wandered into the hall. Why she was late was anyone's guess but she was now sitting all by herself, her blonde ponytail waving back and forth as she hurriedly dug into a bowl of porridge. She seemed a bit rushed but, still, Harry didn't think Ron was likely to get a better chance.

Ron and Ginny were in the middle of an argument about who was responsible for the vanishing charm that had made Ginny's toy wand disappear when they were seven and six respectively when Harry tugged on his best friend's arm and pointed him in Carolyn's direction.

"No!" protested Ron, turning his head back to the table.

"It's your best chance, mate! She's always got her friends around her; you know that! Now go over and ask!"

"No, mate, I - I - just look, I can't - not right now."

"If not now, then when? The ball's in three days!"

"I - I - I've changed my mind," said Ron, looking very blotchy. "I don't think I want to go with her after all. M - maybe I'll just go alone or something."

"You've been keen on her since the end of last year. You know that! And all you could talk about on the whole train ride here was her! It's not that you don't want to go with her. You're just nervous, that's all. It'll be much better once you get it over with. Now, come on!"

Harry stood up and tried to pull Ron to his feet but Ron pulled back with a force that nearly sent Harry crashing to the floor.

"I TOLD YOU NO, HARRY, AND I MEANT NO!"

Harry stumbled backwards, a little stunned by the force of his friend's words. Much of the Gryffindor table was looking at them now. Even Carolyn had turned her head away from her porridge and looked back to see who was shouting.

Ron looked over at Harry, his face still flushed, but obviously slightly embarrassed by his outburst. He didn't seem to know what to do next but finally settled on straightening his robes and saying in a much quieter voice:

"I think I'll get a start on the Transfiguration essay. I'll see you later in class."

And before Harry could reply, Ron turned and walked out of the hall.

Harry sighed. He knew that Ron was not likely to be starting an assignment early. He looked down at Ginny, expecting to see an expression of comiseration. Instead, he found her looking wide-eyed and surprised again.

"What is it?"

Ginny shook her head and sighed.

"This is just all wrong," she said.

She got to her feet and took hold of Harry's hand. She still looked lost in thought as they walked out of the hall.

"I have Divination," she said finally.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

Ginny shook her head and smiled weakly. "I wouldn't want you to have to go through that again."

Harry parted from her reluctantly. As she had turned to walk up the stairs, he called after her:

"Do you think I should find out where he's got to and talk some sense into him about Carolyn?"

Ginny stopped walking but she did not turn around right away. When she did, Harry was surprised to see that her eyes were moist.

"No, I don't, Harry. I think he should go to the ball with Hermione just as he asked her to the night we came back. And I'm going to find her and get everyone's memories back so he can do just that."

And then without a further word, Ginny turned her head and continued to walk back up the stairs to class.

* * *

"I'll admit to a trace of disappointment that there will be so few among us this term," came the wispy voice of Sibyll Trelawney as she cast her eyes dreamily on the four students who now sat in her N.E.W.T. Divination class. "But I won't say that I did not foresee it. It is natural for people to prefer fleeting exotic fashions to the firm steady mantle of truth. I am not concerned, though," she went on, lifting her chin up to look at a spot on the far wall. "I have also foreseen that in time, all things will be known for what they are."

Ginny had no doubt that Trelawney was referring to Firenze. If her mind had not been completely preoccupied with the grim events of the past two days, however, she might have found it highly amusing that Trelawney could describe herself as the "firm steady mantle of truth." In spite of all this, however, she still could not help but feel a little sorry for the Divination Master. Many of the younger students had been forced to take Trelawney's sections but the older ones who had more choice about their schedules had packed Firenze's lessons since he had begun teaching the previous year and left Trelawney with very small classes indeed.

Ginny wanted to point out to Trelawney, however, that the class might have been a bit bigger if a third of the students in the school had not disappeared. She ruefully reflected how she used to always sit next to Catherine during Divination after Amanda had stopped taking it. She wondered what could have possibly happened to them all. Maybe they had all been killed. Or maybe they had simply just ceased to ever exist, their very being now nothing more than a memory in Ginny's head.

Ginny tried to do away with these thoughts as she vaguely heard Trelawney say something about reviewing lessons from past years and placing a cup of tea leaves in front of her. Ginny was still thinking about how she could possibly make good on her promise to get Hermione back in time for the ball when her present deskmate grabbed hold of her elbow excitedly:

"Do you think it looks like a planet?" asked Luna.

"What?"

"My tea leaves. It looks like a planet orbiting a sun and there's a stream of leaves coming out from the center. That must be a solar flare. Do you know what this means?"

"That you'd feel more at home in outer space?"

"It's telling us that the alien xenophobes have Hermione and the others and they've wiped our memories of them! All we've got to do is go down to the dungeon and find them."

Ginny sighed. A stranger was teaching them Potions; her brother was preparing to cheat on his girlfriend without even realizing it; and the only person who was willing to take her seriously was Luna Lovegood.

And she'd thought yesterday had been bad enough.

* * *

As Ron was no longer taking Astronomy, Harry did not see him again that morning. He was even more concerned when his best friend did not turn up for lunch which he ate alone with Ginny who herself was unusually quiet and pensive. It was with something of a relief when he walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom for the first lesson of the afternoon and found Ron sitting in his customary seat. Nevertheless, Harry found himself walking up to the chair next to Ron with apprehension.

"C - can I sit down?"

"Isn't that where you always sit?" Ron sighed.

Harry felt fortunate that the room was still buzzing with pre-class chatter and no one seemed in the mood to pay attention to their conversation.

"Look," he said. "I'm sorry I pushed you with Carolyn. I just don't want to see you alone, that's all."

"I'm sorry I shouted at you," said Ron, after a moment's pause, "but I just didn't want to. It just - " Ron broke off, seemingly at a loss for words. "It just didn't _feel _right somehow."

"Well, it felt right enough when you were going on about her for hours on the train."

Ron sighed. "I know, Harry." His face suddenly took on an odd, far away look. "I _remember_ saying that to you but - but I just don't _feel_ the same way now. It's like - it's like - I don't know. But you understand, right? Wasn't it like that with you and Cho? I mean, one moment you couldn't walk in a straight line in front of her and the next you couldn't be bothered, right?"

"Well, it wasn't quite as fast as that. A lot of things had happened in between. To be honest, Ron, I think you're just nervous."

Ron sighed again. "Look, Harry, I know what this is about. And I'm not put out about you dating Ginny. I'm happy for you. And I know you feel bad that it isn't just the two of us anymore but - "

"I don't feel bad!"

Ron put up a defensive hand. "Look, just hear me out, all right, mate? You always feel guilty about things you shouldn't. Of course I'd like a girlfriend. Any bloke would, right? But she has to be right for me. And me for her."

"But Ron - " Harry sighed. "Look, I was really lucky with Ginny. No one could be any luckier. But if you spend your whole life looking for a soulmate you just might not find anyone."

"Harry, I said - "

"OK, OK, I won't say anymore."

"I expect Ginny will tell me the same thing as you," Ron said gloomily. "She's always been trying to get me together with one or another of her friends."

Harry suddenly looked a little furtive. "Well, er, actually, Ron, Ginny said - "

"Oh, there you are, Ronald."

Both Harry and Ron looked up to see Luna moving into the seat on the other side of Ron.

"I was looking for you all over at lunch but you were nowhere to be found. I just wanted to tell you not to worry. Ginny and I have it all worked out. We'll get your girlfriend back before the ball. Everyone deserves to have someone even if they are from another planet."

Harry cleared his throat. "So, er, so you'll be taking Defense Against the Dark Arts with our year _again_ this term, Luna?"

Luna drew herself upright. "You didn't think I'd _failed_, did you?"

"What will you do next year, Luna?" added Ron, trying to smile but not quite succeeding. "I mean, wouldn't it be best if you went back with your own year now? You could review what you learned last year, you know. I'm sure the extra chance to prepare would help."

"Oh, no, Ronald," said Luna dreamily. "I'll be taking the test with _you_." She sighed. "I do feel responsible for you, you know. I confess I had it badly for you your fifth year. I always knew you wouldn't dance with Padma because you were awful at it."

"I wasn't - it wasn't - "

"And I've always been attracted to boys who couldn't dance," Luna went on, not seeming to notice the interruption. "But then I found that Neville was much worse than you."

As if on cue, Neville ran into the room, panting, and sat down next to Luna.

"Am I late?" he asked frantically.

"Oh, yes, dear," said Luna, turning her attention to him to Ron's relief. "But don't worry. Grubbly-Plank isn't here yet."

She looked back at Ron and Harry.

"That's why I most like to take the lesson with your year, you know, it's the only chance Neville and I have to sit in the same class together." She turned back to Neville and planted a kiss on his lips. Neville didn't seem to hear Seamus start to make cat calls behind him. His face took on a dreamy smile not unlike Luna's.

"I don't expect Grubbly-Plank will have anything worthwhile to teach," Luna continued, looking blissfully into Neville's eyes. "Perhaps we can play with each other's feet, just like we do in your common room when no one else is around."

A sudden awkward silence descended on the table. After a few moments, Ron, who seemed the most bothered of all of them with the pregnant pause in the conversation, started to glance at his watch and then back at the door behind them.

"It's bad enough that she's dead boring," he remarked irritably, "but she can't even bother to come to teach the class on time. You'd think - "

Ron's complaints were silenced very quickly by the sound of loud screaming from somewhere behind them. The whole table turned and looked to see Parvati, her hands waving about frantically, and a horror-stricken expression on her face.

No one doubted what it was that had frightened her. For she was not alone. Standing directly in front of her desk was a tall, lanky man, with a bright shock of blonde hair and a sharp, pointed beard of the same color over a young, boyish face. He wore an oddly-shaped blue velvet hat crowned with a brightly-colored feather. Below his slightly square jaw was an anachronistically high collar belonging to robes of the same color as the hat. What drew Harry's attention most was a garish gold sash fastened around his waist. Clasped to the sash at his hip was a very-long, very-sharp looking sword.

A very long moment of silence followed the dying of Parvati's screams as the remaining members of the class stared at the new arrival with their jaws dropped. Everyone, that was, except for Luna who, for reasons no one understood, suddenly started to giggle.

The man with the sword moved out from in front of Parvati's desk revealing a pair of black boots with long silver tips on their ends which made a loud clicking sound as he walked to the front of the class.

When he spoke, it was in rich, deep tones that seemed to contradict his tall, thin frame.

"My name is Professor Janus. And I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this term. I apologize for my lateness. It was not until recently that I was made aware of this vacancy but once I did, I was eager to apply."

"That puts him in very small company," remarked Ron in a whisper to which Harry nodded.

"I am also sorry if I frightened any of you," Janus went on. "But I am here to teach you all this term about the art of illusion!" His voice rose in a flourish as he drew his cloak across his chest. "Who can tell me why I am wearing this sword? Yes, you over there."

Janus pointed at Seamus.

"You, sir, Mr. - "

"Seamus, sir. Seamus Finnigan. Well, it's for protection, isn't it? I mean you never know when someone might attack. You can't let down your guard, no matter what."

"Very good, Mr. Finnigan, very good, indeed," Janus replied dramatically. "I can see that somewhere within your seven years of rather broken defense training, you have yet managed to learn the most useful thing of all. But Mr. Finnigan is only half right, three-quarters even, but not one hundred percent. Perhaps my point is best made with a little demonstration. You, sir, you look like a brave chap. Perhaps you'd like to volunteer. Come on now, get to your feet! No use being lazy even if it is just after lunch!"

Harry privately thought that Professor Janus could not have been more wrong for the person he had pointed to was Neville. Neville seemed to echo the sentiment as his mouth fell open and his face turned very white. He meekly pointed at his own chest.

"Yes, you!" boomed Janus merrily. "I don't see anyone else in this room with their jaw hanging open and the finger pointed to their chest! Come now, what's your name, sir?"

"Neville," Neville managed, sounding like the high-speed playback on a pair of Omnioculars. "Neville Longbottom."

"Come now, Mr. Longbottom, what a horrible first impression to give a chap! Now stand up and say it again, with force! Repeat after me: _I_ AM NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM!"

"I - " squeaked Neville before clearing his throat. "I," he continued in a lower tone of voice, "am _Neville_ Longbottom!"

"Excellent!" replied Janus. "Come on, up to the front, Neville, I didn't ask you to stand up just to shout your name. If life were that easy, you need never have to leave the shower in the morning, now would you? Come now, don't be afraid. You are a brave chap, aren't you? I'm not often wrong about these things."

With a great deal of reluctance, Neville moved away from the desk and up toward the front of the room. He looked back to Luna for encouragement but she only smiled vacantly and said:

"Don't worry, dear, I'm sure it's only make-believe."

This didn't seem to give Neville very much confidence. This confidence seemed to diminish even further when Janus drew out his sword and brandished it to the class with a slightly manic grin.

"Now, Mr. Longbottom, a little duel perhaps. Now, when I say 'on guard!,' crouch like this," Janus drew his legs slightly apart and bent his knees while keeping the balls of his feet poised for attack, "and then when I say charge, move forward to attack. Got it?"

"But, sir, I - "

"Three! On guard! Charge!"

Janus had brought the tip of his sword up to Neville's neck when he coughed slightly and said rather sheepishly.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot a crucial element, didn't I?"

Janus flicked his left hand absently and a sword appeared in Neville's hand that was even longer, if that were possible, than the one held by Janus. Neville's wrist bent and the heavy sword fell to the ground but he quickly picked it up again and held on more steadily.

"Let's try it again now, shall we?"

Janus crouched down again into the on guard position.

"Three, on - "

But Neville was ready this time. He wielded his sword quickly toward Janus' chest, a blow which the Defense Master parried only at the very last fraction of a second. But as much to his own surprise as anyone else's, Neville still found himself on the offensive. His face now flushed with color, Neville pushed Janus further back toward his own desk, every blow from his shining gold sword searching its way toward Janus' dark robes like a bright moth striking persistently against a dark window only to be parried each time. Neville almost looked like he had gotten the better of Janus when the Defense Master suddenly dropped hard on his back to the floor causing Neville to thrust his sword too far out in front of him and making the Gryffindor lose his balance. Before Neville could right himself, Janus had reversed his palms to the floor behind his head and pushed his feet up hard into the air, coming away with the handle of Neville's sword in the narrow pointed silver toe of his right boot. Janus pushed down on the stone floor again and propelled himself quickly upward. He somersaulted into a standing position while flinging Neville's sword high into the air. Neville tried to grab the sword on its way down but missed and it fell neatly into Janus' palm. Before Neville had realized that Janus had caught it, the Defense Master took the sword into his hand and crossed it and his own neatly through Neville's neck.

Which remained on his body in one piece.

Janus calmly handed the handle end of Neville's sword back to him, took a step back, and made a deep bow.

From past experience, Harry felt sure that Neville must have been on the pointing of passing out. He knew that he had forgotten to breathe and looking across at Ron, he could see that he seemed far too flummoxed to muster the indignation he had shown Professor Nevins when he had tried to use both Ron and Neville as volunteers in a diabolical demonstration of his own the previous year.

Instead, however, Neville remained standing, his cheeks still red, and looking slightly non-plussed. He then nodded slightly as Janus had done.

"I'd like to thank Mr. Longbottom, who it seems will not be joining the headless hunt, not this term at any rate, for his part in my demonstration this morning. Not only has he showed us how a sharp, dangerous-looking sword," Janus clanged the blade of his sword loudly against Neville's which stood at his side, "is not really a sword at all," Janus held out his arm and passed the sword straight through earning several gasps and a high-pitched shriek from Parvati, "and instead a tricky spell, but also how easily a brave man can masquerade as a coward." Janus looked at Neville closely who responded to his gaze with a mask of innocence. "I wonder how long he's being doing this for," he said thoughtfully. "Tell me, Mr. Longbottom, what made you so confident in your swordplay? Have you played at this game before?"

Neville swallowed. "Well, no, sir, it's just that you're a Hogwarts teacher. I didn't think you'd try to kill me and I didn't think you let yourself get hurt, either. So I just played along."

Janus nodded encouragingly. "Very good, Mr. Longbottom, very good. You see, Mr. Longbottom here uses logic and imagination where others simply fear and then believe. We all have much to learn from Mr. Longbottom, particularly now, for this is a time when the best way to protect ourselves is by learning that we live in a world where very little is as it seems to be."

Janus paused for a moment and seemed to take in the confused expressions looking back at him from the class before turning to Neville and bowing again melodramatically.

"I believe Mr. Longbottom deserves a round of applause for all he has taught us this morning about the art of illusion."

Janus began to clap enthusiastically, followed at first reluctantly but then in force by the students in the class. Harry was surprised to find himself clapping vigorously and looked across to see that Ron was doing the same.

"You can sit down, Neville," said Janus, as the clapping died down.

Neville returned to his seat still looking a little grateful that his part in the demonstration was at an end.

"Now," Janus went on. "We have important work to cover this term. If - "

Janus stopped talking as it became clear that one set of hands was still clapping slowly on in mock appreciation. Everyone's heads turned to the back of the room to see Draco Malfoy, sitting alone this time, rocking back and forth on his chair.

"Your appreciation is overwhelming, Mr. - "

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. And I have a question for you, Professor."

"By all means."

"How did you appear like at the beginning of class? I've never seen it done before."

"Well, if the combined knowledge of the wizarding world were limited by what was inside your head, Mr. Malfoy, we might be in a very poor way indeed."

There was a smattering of laughter throughout the class. Malfoy quickly righted his chair, however, and fixed Janus with a hardened stare, his cheeks flushed a quick red.

"That being the case, _Professor,_" he said through clenched teeth. "I'd still like you to explain."

"All in good time, Mr. Malfoy," said Janus airily. "If you're lucky, by the end of term, you'll learn a few tricks - "

"TELL US WHAT YOU DID AND TELL US NOW!"

There was a flurry of half-surprised and half-resentful murmuring throughout the classroom, even from some of the Slytherins.

"What's gotten into the ferret now?" whispered Ron.

Harry shrugged again.

"Mr. Malfoy," said Janus, with a hint of curiosity in his own voice. "I do believe you should ask Madam Pomfrey to get your temperature checked. All that anger might have brought on a fever."

Malfoy looked back murderously at Janus. For a moment, Harry was sure he would move forward and try to attack him but the Slytherin contented himself with slamming his chair loudly to the floor and stalking off out of the classroom.

"Well," said Janus, after Malfoy's footsteps had disappeared into the distance, "now that he's out of the way, let's get down to proper business, shall we?"

Then followed one of the strangest Defense Against the Dark Arts classes that Harry had ever experienced and that was saying a great deal. Janus divided them up into pairs. Each student in the pair had to make three statements about his or her past, one of which was false. The other student in the pair had to guess which statement was wrong based on the other two. They could use no magic nor could they refer to any prior knowledge of the person with whom they were partnered. As Harry was partnered with Ron, this didn't prove very easy. The exercise quickly proved ineffective and most of the pairs drifted into idle conversation. Harry found himself very disappointed, especially after the rather dramatic beginning of the lesson, and he could not see what the exercise could possibly have had to do with learning Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Harry was about to leave the classroom with Ron at the end of the lesson when Janus called out to the room:

"Is there a Mr. Harry Potter here by any chance?"

Harry and Ron stopped walking and Harry turned around.

"I'm Harry."

"Ah, yes, I can see that now." Janus studied Harry's scar for a moment. "Professor Dumbledore wanted me to tell you that the extra Defense lessons you started with Professor Nevins will continue with me this term."

Harry restrained a frown. From what he had seen in the lesson that day, he didn't feel very confident that Janus could teach him as much as Nevins had. Not for the first time, he found himself missing his former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and erstwhile mentor.

"Well, it is necessary now?" asked Harry. "I mean, I'm grateful, sir, but since Voldemort's gone and I plan to enter auror training starting next year, I thought - "

Janus drew his robes across his chest again. "You must learn not to judge from appearances, Mr. Potter," he said, leaving Harry slightly unsure whether he was referring to himself or Voldemort's apparent demise.

Harry was silent for a moment, certain that Janus had something more to add. But the new Defense master simply folded his arms and stared down at Harry stoically.

"Er, all right, then," Harry finally said. "How shall I - "

"I will notify you when the private lessons are to begin," said Janus, suddenly becoming interested in some papers on the desk in front of him. "That is all, Mr. Potter," he finished curtly.

* * *

As Ron left for Muggle Studies, Harry returned to the common room to find Ginny sitting at one of the chairs, staring at something on the table in front of her. When he got closer, Harry saw a very odd sight: Hedwig was sitting on the wizard chess table across from Snitch. Both seemed to be studying each other with intense curiosity. Every now and then Hedwig's face would rock from side to side in time with the rising and falling of Snitch's trunk.

"Hi," said Harry.

Ginny didn't respond right away and Harry wondered if she knew he was there but then she reached out and snaked an arm around his waist pulling him toward her, her eyes never leaving the two animals.

"How are you doing?" asked Harry gently.

"All right, I suppose," replied Ginny, somewhat unconvincingly. She pointed to a rolled- up parchment on the table next to Hedwig's leg. "A letter came for you. It's from Hagrid. He wants to know if we can go and have tea with him this afternoon. He says he's got loads to tell us. I didn't mean to open it first but Hedwig brought it to me and I thought it was mine."

Harry picked up the message, frowning.

"Why didn't you bring it to me, eh?" he asked Hedwig, tickling her chin.

In response, Hedwig hopped onto Harry's arm, looked mournfully into his eyes, and began rubbing her feathers along his wrist affectionately.

Harry continued to look down at Hedwig curiously before running his own fingers along Ginny's hair and down her cheek. He was pleased to see that it still managed to make her smile.

"Let's go and see Hagrid, all right?" he said softly. "If a cup of tea and a rock-hard piece of cake can't cheer you up, then I'm not sure what will."

Ginny smiled again and then, after a moment, nodded.

* * *

Janus was still looking down at the papers on his desk when another figure entered the room.

"Feeling better, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked without looking up.

There was no response right away save for the sharp footfall of boots on the stone floor as their wearer walked further forward.

"Madam Pomfrey can do wonders, you know," Janus went on conversationally. "She's even got medicine for horrible tempers."

"I want to know what you are and where Dumbledore found you!"

Janus let out a dark, ironic laugh which might have surprised those who had sat the first day's lesson of the cheerful and robust new teacher, but said nothing more in response.

Malfoy took another step forward. "I think you must not have heard my question correctly," he said bitingly. "I'm going to repeat it again and this time I would like an answer. What - "

"Or what, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Janus meaningfully. "Are you going to threaten me with your wand as you did to Professor Snape? Or perhaps you'd like to arrange to have me banished along with him. I think you might find that more difficult than you think."

"You're playing a very dangerous game, you know."

"Not nearly as dangerous as the one that you are playing, Mr. Malfoy."

* * *

As Ginny and Harry studied the plate of cakes in front of them with a great deal of healthy suspicion, it was obvious that Harry had not been wrong. Still, thought Ginny, as she sipped her tea, there was something about sitting in Hagrid's hut that could make one's own problems seem very small indeed.

In more ways than one.

Despite having appeared perfectly normal at the train station and then at the feast two days before, Hagrid's face was now black and blue with bruises the way it had appeared her fourth year. The thick slab of dragon meat Hagrid had kept forever close to the side of his face that year, too, (or one just like it) now hung from a hook in the hut's ceiling where he could easily place it to whichever part of his face was smarting the most. Ginny wondered whether the Hagrid she had remembered from the night of the feast also belonged to a world that was now forgotten until Harry said:

"Hagrid, whatever happened to your face? It was fine two days ago. You haven't had to wrestle with Grawp again, have you?"

Hagrid sighed. "Not Grawp. Fump."

"Fump?" echoed Harry and Ginny in unison.

"Who's Fump?" said Harry.

"Grawp's, er, lady friend."

Harry looked across to Ginny to find a shocked expression that mirrored his own.

"Hagrid," said Ginny, "is that really a good idea? And wherever did you find, er, Fump?"

"Well, after everything died down at the end o' las' year, I figured as how I could sneak back teh where the giants live and, well - "

"B - but it's already bad enough taking care of one giant, surely?" protested Harry. "And he's your half-brother. And what if Grawp doesn't like her?"

"Nonsense! They were friends before, so it turned out an' all, only I didn' know, I couldn' talk to Grawp too much until I taught him proper English. But when I did find out, I knew as I'd have to go back and fin' her. An' good thing I did, the other giants weren't takin' too much of a likin' too her, on the wrong side of on' o' them fights if yeh know what I mean. Anyhow, Grawp's much more peaceful now she's arrived."

"Only Fump isn't," remarked Ginny.

"Yeah, well, she's just a little excited, that's all; she'll get used teh it."

"And how are you going to feed both of them?" asked Ginny again. "There won't be anything left alive in the forest!"

"Yeah, well," said Hagrid, a little sheepishly. "I'm still thinkin' about that one. Never mind that, now." He rubbed his hands together and smiled. "I admit that when I saw yeh two together in the hospital wing last year, I hadn't quite caughtened on to what it was yeh were up to." He grinned and winked as Harry and Ginny looked a little puzzled. "But then yeh brothers went and told me, o' course." He winked at Ginny. "What can I say? I think it was one day at dinner very early on in yeh first year, Ginny, that I caught yeh lookin' up at Harry. I knew from that day that he wouldn't be a'le to help but say yes one of these days. Took 'im a while, mind, but yeh can't rush things before they're ready. Take my treacle tarts, for instance."

Fang let out a small groan that Harry was sure had been in jest.

Harry and Ginny, for their parts, couldn't help blushing slightly but Harry reached over and took Ginny's hand in his nonetheless.

"Where's Ron today, anyhow?" asked Hagrid, after a moment's pause.

"He has Muggle Studies," said Harry.

"Good to see he still kept that class on," said Hagrid. "Must take after yeh Dad. Maybe one day we'll even have Muggle-borns here at Hogwarts and they can teach us somethin' about Muggle life themselves."

Harry felt Ginny's hand tighten in his.

"I don' like to ask too many private things but is he, er," Hagrid lowered his voice. "Did he manage to get - yeh know - a _date_ to the ball?"

Harry was still thinking of a response when Ginny spontaneously burst into tears. He quickly put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him but Ginny's crying did not stop.

"I'm sorry," said Hagrid, looking surprised. "I didn't mean - I didn't know yeh - come now, pull yehself together, Ginny. I didn't mean to make yeh so upset. Ron 'll find a nice girl eventually, don't you worry, now."

Hagrid tried to wink at Ginny but her wailing only got louder. Even Fang started to join in with a howling noise of his own.

"Say now," said Hagrid, looking more and more at a loss as to what to say that could cheer Ginny up. "Surely it can't be anythin' so bad that a handsome young man like you've got 'ere can' cheer yeh up now."

Ginny smiled a little in spite of herself. "H-Harry's b-b-been wonderful, really," she said between sobs, holding onto him in reciprocity. "B - but I think I-I-I must be going mad, either m-me or everyone else."

"What's this now?" asked Hagrid, looking bewildered.

Harry cleared his throat. "Ginny remembers things that no one else does," he reported. "She remembers people that she says should be going to school here - Muggle-borns - including Ron's girlfriend, Her - her - Hermione."

Ginny looked up at Harry and smiled a little more fully, pleased that he'd finally remembered Hermione's name even if it was only from her mentioning it all the time. But she still continued to sob as she looked toward Hagrid.

"You don't remember them either, Hagrid, do you? I expect you think I've gone mad, too."

"Can' say as I do." Hagrid shook his head. "But goin' mad's not such a bad thing after all," he added, winking again at Ginny and pouring her another cup of tea. "Some of the kindest an' greatest people I know have been mad. Take Dumbledore for instance. Off his rocker even back when he was just Transfiguration teacher. But great man, Dumbledore. Great man. Funny yeh should talk about losing yeh memory, though." A dark cloud suddenly passed over Hagrid's face. "Puts me in mind of somethin.' Somethin' from a long time ago."

Hagrid's voice trailed off at the end. He didn't seem in a rush to elaborate but went back to pour more tea into his own teapot before briefly topping up Harry and Ginny's nearly full cups. Ginny had stopped sobbing now and both she and Harry found themselves extremely curious about what Hagrid was going to say next.

Hagrid sat down and paused for a moment as though uncertain how to go on. When he opened his mouth to speak, it was to a point in the wall somewhere to Ginny's left.

"Was an awful long time ago, I suppose. Can' say as I even remember his name. Must be dead now, I should think. Still yeh never know."

Hagrid seemed lost in his own memories and looked surprised when Harry leaned over and said.

"Who, Hagrid?"

Hagrid seemed to notice for the first time that Ginny and Harry were active listeners in his reminiscences.

"Used teh teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Back when I was a student an' I don' 'ave teh tell yeh how long ago that was. Creepy fella, he was. Very creepy. We were right scared o' him, all o' us, even me, an' I was taller than he was even at that age.

Was head o' Slytherin house. Not as nice as Harmon, though. You-Know-Who was his favorite student. Need I go on?" Hagrid guffawed loudly.

"Anyhow, he did somethin' right odd. Was near the end of me first year. Only was a student two years here, o' course. Anyhow, one day, we all woke up, dead convinced we was all Muggles in some kind o' private Muggle school. Students, teachers everyone. We had a whole day o' them Muggle lessons - some kind o' ancient Muggle language, Muggle science, everythin'. An' the teachers taught it and the students listened an' all. I had a whole lifetime o' Muggle memories, convinced I had a Muggle Mum and Dad, a Muggle brother, everythin'. It was all real to me. Damndest thing yeh ever saw."

"So what happened?" asked Ginny.

"Well, we got teh dinner in the hall and the ol' devil - the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that was - got up and said he wanted to make an announcement. He got some kind o' box out an' put on this table in front o' the headmaster. Just like where they put the Sortin' Hat now. Got the box onto the table. We didn't know what was goin' on or nothin'; we'd all forgotten anythin' about magic. Anyhow, he opened the box an' out came this kind o' bright light and I remember I got this howlin' pain in me head. An' then after that, I remembered everythin.'"

"And were everyone's memories gone?" asked Harry.

Hagrid nodded. "Everyone an' all. From ol' Dippet right on down. Right frightened we all was. The ol' devil said it was some kind o' test, new magic, new defense or somethin'. But he left soon after that. Some say he retired; others said Dippet didn' take too kindly an' wanted to get rid o' him. I reckon ol' Riddle was in on it, though. He had a funny look on his face that day and he just stood there an' smiled when that box was opened. Of course, the very next year, we find out now, he went an' opened the Chamber o' Secrets. Wondered once or twice whether it wasn't that ol' devil who told 'im where to find it."

There was a moment of silence as Harry and Ginny took in what Hagrid had told him.

"Funny you should talk about Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry said. "We had a very strange lesson today."

"With Grubby-Plank?" asked Ginny.

"No." Harry explained about the class with Professor Janus, including the sword duel with Neville and Malfoy's odd behavior.

"Strange," said Hagrid after he had finished. "Dumbledore owled us about him this morning. Never heard o' the bloke before, though. An' I know almost all the aurors and everyone who fought in the first war. He can' be one o' them."

"He's very young," said Harry. "I don't think he can be older than thirty. He can't have been in the first war."

"An' I don' remember 'im as a student here, either."

"Maybe he's from another country," Harry wondered.

"Dumbledore didn't say, at any rate," said Hagrid.

"I don't know why Malfoy was so upset," said Ginny, her eyes brimming with curiosity, "but I can see why he asked that question. I can't see how appeared like that, either. No one should be able to Apparate and Disapparate inside Hogwarts."

"Really?" said Harry, in what seemed to be genuine surprise.

"I thought I remembered readin' that somewhere, too," said Hagrid thoughtfully.

"Perhaps you all _heard_ it from someone," said Ginny, suddenly looking as though she was having a great deal of difficulty remaining patient. "Anyway, I'd very much like to know how he did that, also."

The conversation then drifted onto other topics. Ginny and Harry finally managed to leave before Hagrid could do any permanent damage to their teeth. Once outside, Ginny held onto Harry's hand tightly and led him half-skipping, half-running back to the castle as though she was dragging a reluctant dog by its leash.

"Do you see?" Ginny said, jumping up and down and looking more energetic than she had the whole week. "He could be the key to this whole mystery."

"Who?" asked Harry, trying hard not to lose his balance.

"Janus!" replied Ginny enthusiastically. "Everyone loses their memory and he just happens to arrive. And no one knows who he is or where he came from? Or how it is he has special powers?"

"Well, I expect Dumbledore knows."

"There must be a connection!" Ginny finished enthusiastically, not appearing to have heard what Harry said.

"Well, Ginny," said Harry, wanting to sound a note of caution but unwilling to dampen his girlfriend's newly raised spirits. "How are you going to find out what it is?"

Ginny flashed him a confident smile. "I'm going to ask him, of course."

* * *

Ginny didn't feel quite so confident when she woke the next morning remembering what had happened to Snape when Malfoy had left his class disgruntled two days before. She also found herself wondering, not for the first time, how Malfoy knew what he did and what influence he was having on the whole problem of the loss of everyone's memory. It was with a feeling of trepidation that she asked Harry and Ron at breakfast the next morning whether they could tell her once again what had happened in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class the day before, fearing they would no longer remember. But the story they told was roughly the same and by the time the following day rolled around and it was once again time for Ginny's year to have Defense Against the Dark Arts, she became cautiously confident that Professor Janus wasn't going to disappear, at least not for the time being. Her spirits were also bolstered by the fact that, at least since the morning after Snape had gone two days before, no one else in the school had vanished.

Ginny arrived early at Defense Against the Dark Arts that morning turning over in her mind exactly what she wanted to ask Janus and how. She also wanted to make sure to sit in the front row of class so she could get a good look at the professor. Perhaps it was someone she did know, even if no one else remembered him. She was still lost in thought by the time her roommate Amanda arrived and sat down next to her, trying unsuccessfully to engage her in conversation about who she was hoping to invite to the ball.

Despite forcing Amanda to pause in mid-sentence, the apparent Apparation of Professor Janus in front of Terry Boot's desk came as little surprise to the sixth-year students: by this point in the week, rumors about Professor Janus' unique magical abilities had traveled around the now very small school several times. Nevertheless, it still managed to generate a number of murmurs and gasps around the room. Ginny tried to ignore the reactions of her classmates and, as Janus moved to the front of the room, she made sure to study him closely.

Taking in his outfit, Ginny couldn't shake the impression that he was something of a cross between Gilderoy Lockhart and Professor Trelawney. Harry was right: he was young. He had a very boyish face and Ginny had the impression as he took in the hushed whispers of the students with a half-smile on his face that everything about him was a bit of a private joke at everyone else's expense. More than that, looking at him from her position in the front row, Ginny couldn't shake the feeling that there was something not quite right about the way he looked: his prominent chin, light blond hair (slightly obscured by his ridiculous hat), and bright hazel eyes made him seem very striking but she would never have said he was attractive. There was something far too unnatural about the way his jaw was set as he looked at the class, something too precise about the way his beard was trimmed and the manner in which his thin sideburns both ended neatly in the same place just above his earlobe.

Ginny became aware that Janus had finished introducing himself and was about to explain his lesson plans. Before he could begin, however, her hand shot high into the air.

"Now, first I would like - er, yes, Miss, er - "

"Summers," said Ginny, continuing to study Janus carefully. "Catherine Summers."

"Ginny!" hissed Amanda. "What are you - "

Ginny elbowed her roommate to keep her silent.

"Miss Summers," Janus went on, though Ginny was sure she saw him blink. "You have a question?"

"Yes, Professor," said Ginny sweetly. "I wonder if you could tell us how you Apparated into the room like that. Aren't there magical wards protecting Hogwarts? I didn't think anyone could apparate and disapparate inside the school."

There was a renewed sound of murmuring around the room as Ginny's classmates began to wonder amongst themselves whether that was really true.

This time Janus did not blink.

"Very good question, Miss Summers," he said. "Did you know that you are the second person to ask me that this week?"

"Really?" asked Ginny innocently.

"Yes, and the other student who asked was not nearly as civil as you. But I must give you the same answer I gave him: that is a secret that will have to wait."

Ginny stared at Janus closely for a moment. "I see. Thank you, sir," she said.

Ginny was sure it was not her imagination that Janus seemed relieved he could continue with his lesson. He did not try any sword demonstration with this class though his sword still hung clasped to his waist, its tip nearly dragging on the floor. As he described a common defensive stunning spell to the students, Ginny's hand went up again.

"When your opponent - oh!" Janus smiled engagingly. "Miss Summers again. Yes?"

Ginny smiled again. "Sorry for interrupting again, Professor, but I was wondering if you were going to teach us the memory exercise that you did for the seventh years. I think it would be very useful."

"Ginny," whispered Amanda. "What exactly did you put into your wizard puffs this morning?"

Janus smiled at Ginny for a moment longer. "I'm afraid not. That lesson was for the seventh years. Yours is different."

Ginny nodded her understanding. "I do hope you'll teach it to us one day soon, though, Professor. It might very useful should some of us have _forgotten _something."

Janus chose to ignore the comment and continued on with the lesson. Ginny participated dutifully and tried to keep her mind focused enough to learn the spell and open enough to make sure to catch everything that was going on around her. Finally, when the lesson was finished, Ginny waited until everyone else had left before walking up to the front of the class and looking at Janus closely.

"I do hope you'll tell us how you managed your Apparation trick soon, Professor," she said. "We're all very anxious to know, myself especially."

Janus looked down at some papers on his desk.

"Surely you can't expect a conjurer to reveal all of his tricks, Miss Weasley."

"I think I told you my name was Summers."

Janus looked up, a momentary look of surprise on his perfectly sculpted face.

"I - I'm sorry, Miss - "

"No," said Ginny, fixing him with a deep stare now that she had gotten his attention. "Don't be. You're right. My name is Ginny, Ginny Weasley. I just wonder how you knew. Good day, Professor."

And before Janus could respond, Ginny turned and walked out of the classroom.


	4. The Prophecy

**Chapter 4**

**The Prophecy**

"Well, perhaps Dumbledore told him your name?" suggested Harry, holding on tightly to the handle of his broomstick as another gust of wind blew up.

"But why, Harry?" asked Ginny.

"Well, I don't know, perhaps it just came up. Or perhaps he knew your parents. I mean..." Harry's voice trailed off as he pointed up at Ginny's unmistakable bright red locks which now blew back into the wind like the tail of a comet.

"He doesn't know them. I owled Mum and Dad last night and asked them. They'd never heard of him. He knows about me because he's involved in all this memory business somehow, Harry, and he knows that I am, too. Only I don't know how."

Harry suddenly looked alert. "You asked your parents," he said. "Did you - did you tell them about, I mean, about your memories?"

Ginny shook her head. "I knew it would worry them," she said, her quiet voice nearly altogether lost in the wind that now swirled around the Quidditch pitch. "But I know they don't remember either. Mum asked me if Ron had found a date to the ball. It must not just be only at Hogwarts then."

Harry opened his mouth and closed it several times. He seemed on the brink of saying something to Ginny that he wasn't sure she wanted to hear. He was saved, however, when Ron swooped up beside them.

"Sorry to interrupt but Marvin Berke wants to know if you're going to watch his tryout or just float here in mid-air chatting."

"Sorry," said Harry immediately. "I'll be there in a minute."

He gently tugged onto Ginny's right hip and pulled her toward him. The twin Firebolts hummed softly as they touched and Harry planted a swift kiss on Ginny's lips.

"I have to do this now," he said quietly. "We'll talk again later, all right?"

Ginny nodded and silently broke away from Harry, circling around to the left chaser's position. Harry told Marvin Berke, who was looking a little nervous, to join her on the right. Ron assumed the keeper position. Harry blew his captain's whistle and tossed the Quaffle to Ginny. Her task was to pass it back and forth with Berke and try to score on Ron. As Ginny took the Quaffle in her hand and tried to pass it, however, she found that she was far too distracted to play properly. After three fumbled passes, Harry diplomatically replaced her with Susan Richards, a fourth-year whom Ginny remembered as trying and failing to get the chaser position held by Arabella last year, but whom everyone else seemed to remember as having made it onto the team.

Ginny found a place in the stands and watched the play unfold in Susan's more capable hands. Her mind very quickly turned back to Janus. How could he have known who she was? She certainly didn't know him. Try as she might, Ginny couldn't think of any more plausible conclusion than that Janus was yet another player in the sinister plot to selectively erase the school - and now it seemed the entire wizarding world - of the memory of Muggle-borns ever having attended Hogwarts. It also seemed clear that she was meant to have some part to play in whatever diabolical plot had been unleashed but what that was, she could not possibly know.

Then again...

Ginny sighed. She knew in her heart of hearts that she hadn't owled her parents earlier because she was afraid they might tell her what she had least wanted to hear. That they didn't remember the others either. That it was just her. Ginny could understand exactly how Ron and Harry felt. She must seem completely mad to them. She was so sure she knew what she knew, and yet -

"Sickle for your thoughts, Weasley," drawled a voice behind her.

Ginny swung her head around to see Malfoy sitting three rows behind her, his feet propped up on the seat just in front of him. Her hand went quickly for her wand as she cursed herself for getting so lost in thought that she had failed to stay alert, especially at a time like this.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "If you are not in the mood to talk, you can just say so. There's no need to hex me."

Ginny pointed her wand at Malfoy. "This is our team's tryout, Malfoy. Get out!"

"You know, there are so few of you Gryffindors you'd think you'd want to make friends."

"I'm not going to warn you again, Malfoy!"

But Malfoy showed little sign of wanting to move. He leaned back on the seat behind him and sighed.

"But it seems you already have," he remarked nonchalantly. "Tell me, _Ginny_, how was your Potions class the other day? A little less _severe_ now, perhaps?"

Ginny tightened her grip on the wand in her wand but inwardly cursed herself as it started to tremble.

"I'm going to stop you, Malfoy," she hissed. "I'm not afraid of you or your Death Eater friends."

Malfoy drew back his head and laughed loudly.

"And every taunt you throw at me," Ginny went on, ignoring the interruption, "just makes me that much more sure of what I still know."

An unpleasant smile curled up the sides of Malfoy's mouth.

"Beginning to doubt yourself now, are you, Ginny? Perhaps that's for the best, don't you think? You think you remember what really happened, but couldn't it be that your head is full of lies that I mock you into believing are true? Either way, it doesn't much matter. None of your friends are ever coming back - oh, look, if it isn't loverboy to the rescue."

Harry sped his Firebolt hard in the direction of Malfoy's face, pulling up quickly only at the last second. His adversary, however, did not flinch.

"Is Malfoy bothering you, Ginny?" asked Harry, looking murderously at his Slytherin rival.

"Only in his imagination," replied Ginny, still holding her wand tightly.

"Clear off, Malfoy!" barked Harry.

Malfoy smiled and got to his feet. "You Gryffindors are so unfailingly predictable. You can both rest assured that I have no interest in the fortunes of your pathetic team."

Malfoy turned to leave. Harry, apparently satisfied that the matter was concluded, turned on his broomstick and began to speed off. Malfoy's back was barely turned when Ginny pulled him roughly around by the collar of his cloak and pointed her wand into the side of his neck.

"Something else, Ginny?"

"Yes, don't ever call me by my first name again, Malfoy!"

Ginny released her grip on Malfoy, pocketed her wand, and lifted off on her broomstick to join Harry. She was well out of earshot when Malfoy mumbled to himself:

"But isn't that how I've always known you?"

* * *

Ginny felt Harry's hand hold tightly onto hers as they walked back to Gryffindor Tower. It had not been a very promising practice session. Only one of the prospective chasers for Katie Bell's open position had even gotten a shot on Ron, and that was only because she had held onto the Quaffle and failed to pass all the way to the hoops. Worse, Ginny couldn't help but think that the players already on the team hadn't looked much better, herself included. She knew they were missing the Muggle-borns but found she lacked the energy to say as much to Harry. She settled for giving his hand a reciprocal squeeze and leaning her head gently against his fast-beating chest as they climbed the stairs.

"I'm not going to run away to Malfoy, you know," she said, trying to smile.

"Oh, what?" said Harry, who looked a bit lost in thought himself. "No, of course not, I - "

Ginny winked and looked down meaningfully at their joined hands.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Harry. "I - I just - I'm worried about you, that's all."

"I'm worried about you, too, Harry," Ginny replied as they approached the Fat Lady.

"Balderdash," said Harry and the portrait hole swung open. "I mean - I know, I just..." He hesitated.

"You don't have to tell me what you're thinking, Harry," said Ginny quietly as they stopped in front of the fireplace. "I'd feel the same if I was in your position. But I'm not going to give up."

Harry hesitated again for a moment, then nodded firmly. "Don't then," he said. "I - er - " he added after a moment's pause. He pointed to the bathroom.

"Go and get washed up for dinner," said Ginny. "I'll manage while you're away."

Harry smiled a little shyly in return. He turned around but Ginny snaked an arm around his waist and before Harry knew what was happening, she had pulled him into a long, passionate kiss, ignoring the glances of the few students who still remained in the now perpetually half-empty room.

They said nothing to each other after that but parted very slowly. Harry had a funny grin on his face as he moved backward toward the bathroom, still watching Ginny. He finally collided with the door and reluctantly entered it.

Ginny felt her cheeks burning as she turned to sit down on the sofa in front of the fireplace. She knew that she should be washing up herself but a sudden draught of wind came in through the nearby window. Ginny shivered and quickly realized that the fireplace was devoid of flame. It might still have been the first week of September but it was already getting cold outside. After a few more moments staring at the fireplace, Ginny's chill overcame her inertia and she got up to place a few logs into position in the fire. She drew out her wand to set the tinder alight when a sudden terrified yelp drew her attention.

Ginny looked quickly around. So far as she could see there was no one about except some third-year boys milling near the staircase to the girls' dormitory, apparently waiting for their classmates to join them for dinner. Shaking her head and wondering if she hadn't gone mad after all, Ginny pointed her wand at the logs again.

"_Incen_ - "

There was a louder yelp this time. Ginny jerked her head quickly back. Still, however, no one seemed to have noticed. But as far as she could trust her own ears, the source of the noise seemed a bit more precise this time. Without daring to look back again, Ginny crouched to the ground and stared up into the chimney shaft that stretched up above the fireplace, stifling a gasp.

Dobby the house-elf hung suspended upside down directly above the fireplace, his feet stretched out along the sooty brick interior like an insects' and his upside-down face dominated by a pair of even larger than usual, very frightened-looking eyes. In contrast to the rest of his body, however, Dobby's long pointed ears were withdrawn protectively over the sides of his face.

"Dobby is very sorry," he croaked. "Dobby doesn't mean to make Ginny Weasley feel cold but Dobby wonders if she wouldn't start a fire just now. Dobby might get a little bit burned."

"Dobby, what are you doing up there?"

Dobby let out an even more pitiful whimper.

"D - Dobby is preparing."

"Preparing for what, Dobby?"

"Dobby cannot say. If Dobby tells Ginny Weasley, Dobby will have to punish himself."

"No, Dobby," said Ginny patiently as a fleck of soot fell onto her forehead. "You do not have to punish yourself. Now tell me what you are preparing for."

Dobby moaned again. "Dobby is preparing for S.L.E.D."

"What's S.L.E.D., Dobby?"

"Society for the Liberation of Elfin Domestic labor. The para-military arm of S.P.E.W."

Dobby's sentence ended with a loud gasp from both him and Ginny. It was Ginny who spoke first after that, mostly because Dobby had put a free hand over his mouth while searching frantically with the other for something with which to punish himself. All of this went on while he continued to suspend himself above the fireplace by his spread-out feet.

"W - what did you say, Dobby?" hissed Ginny up the chimney, her eyes now nearly as large as the house-elf's. "Did you say _Elfin Domestic labor_?"

Dobby withdrew his hand from his mouth and put it to use with his other in an increasingly frantic search for some means of doing himself harm.

"Dobby has said too much, much too much! Dobby must punish himself now!"

"No, Dobby, you are not - "

Ginny's protests were cut off when a cloud of soot fell down onto her face followed closely by Dobby himself. She cleared her eyes just in time to see Dobby reaching for a very large poker which sat by the side of the fireplace. Stumbling for a moment under its weight, Dobby managed to bring the poker up to his head when Ginny seized it firmly.

"Dobby must punish himself!" squeaked Dobby. "Ginny Weasley must let go!"

"No, Dobby!" Ginny held onto the poker fiercely. "You are not going to hurt yourself and you are going to tell me exactly what you know about 'Elfin Domestic labor!'"

"Dobby - cannot - say!" Dobby cried through clenched teeth as he pulled hard on the poker.

Ginny turned her head briefly to notice that there was now a large audience of third year boys and girls watching her odd wrestling match with the house-elf. She turned back to Dobby and yanked hard on the poker pulling both it and him in the direction of the portrait hole which dutifully opened. Dobby struggled to hold on to the poker, dangling in mid-air like a parody of a water-skier, as Ginny pulled it and him out of the common room.

Dobby did not seem very interested in talking, however, but continued to hold tightly to the poker even as Ginny tried to wrestle it from his grip.

"Ginny Weasley must let go!" he squeaked loudly. "Dobby has said too much. Dobby must - "

"Who is organizing S.L.E.D., Dobby?" Ginny broke in. "What's going on? Who started S.P.E.W.? Do you know? Do you remember? Tell me, Dobby!"

Ginny tried to give the poker one final frustrated tug but Dobby held on even more tightly.

"Dobby cannot say who is organizing S.L.E.D.," Dobby croaked between pants. "But Dobby hopes that Ginny Weasley has not forgotten that Hermione Granger started S.P.E.W. Dobby knows he will never forget her kindness."

Ginny dropped the poker so suddenly that Dobby fell crashing into her midsection. Ginny ignored the pain from the poker which fell hard onto her foot, let out a cry of mirth, and jumped into the air as if she'd just caught the Snitch to win the Quidditch cup.

"Dobby is very sorry - "

Ginny picked Dobby up in her hands, twirled him around in the air, and planted a huge kiss on his cheek. After she had placed him back down to the stone floor, she and Dobby continued to stare at each other, the poker lying forgotten at their feet. Then Dobby touched the side of his face, smiled broadly, and twirled his ears around three times.

"But h - how?" Ginny said finally. "Why - " She stopped again. "Dobby, you've got to tell Harry! You've got to tell Dumbledore! Nobody remembers. Everyone thinks I've gone mad!"

But Dobby's face fell and he eyed the poker again. His hand reached down for it but Ginny was quicker and seized his wrist.

"Dobby!" she shouted between clenched teeth. "As a Hogwarts student and N.E.W.T.-level witch-in-training I order you not to harm yourself!"

Dobby let go of her grip and smiled again. "Dobby is very grateful to Ginny Weasley for Dobby does not truly want to harm himself."

"Dobby, do you know what's really going on?" asked Ginny urgently.

"Dobby cannot say!"

Ginny sighed. "But you know, Dobby, don't you? Why can't you tell me? I ordered you not to harm - "

Dobby took a long step backwards and folded his arms, looking back at Ginny with a defiant determination she had never seen in his eyes before, not even the time he had first tried to stop her, Colin, and Amanda from entering the kitchens during their O. in what now seemed like another world.

"No, Dobby cannot say and Dobby will not say! And if Ginny Weasley cares anything for her own safety, she will not say anything either." Dobby's voice dropped to an urgent whisper. "There are dark wizards here, at Hogwarts!" The house-elf put his hands to his mouth and looked longingly at the poker which Ginny quickly kicked to the side.

"Which dark wizards, Dobby? Professor Janus? Is he a dark wizard? Tell me!"

"No! Dobby will not say! Dobby can only say that if Ginny Weasley does not stay quiet, she will put herself in great danger. But Dobby will tell Ginny Weasley one thing: S.L.E.D. will act and Ginny Weasley must watch for it! Farewell, Ginny Weasley!"

And before Ginny could reach out and grab him, Dobby had snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Ginny let out a deep sigh and stood in place for a moment. She then reached down for the poker and had just taken hold of it when the portrait hole opened and Harry walked out. His eyes widened in alarm as he quickly took in Ginny's soot-covered appearance and the poker in her hand but he merely cleared his throat and said:

"Er, ready for dinner?"

* * *

Even before her encounter with Dobby, Ginny had decided she was better off keeping her knowledge mostly to herself. She now had a renewed faith that what she remembered was right but she was not going to broadcast it all over the school anymore. She was definitely not going to say anything more about it to her brother whom she was sure was one last straw away from owling their parents and having her checked into St. Mungo's.

She did plan to tell Harry, though, but because they were always surrounded by others, she did not get the chance until the following morning at breakfast.

"You do remember Dobby, don't you?" she said, after she had finished.

"Well, of course I do."

"Not 'of course,' Harry, but it's a good sign. You don't remember S.P.E.W., though, do you?"

Harry frowned and shook his head.

"Though I suppose that if we could just find Dobby, we could be a lot closer to solving this mystery," said Harry brightly, though Ginny couldn't help but think it was mostly for her benefit.

Ginny sighed. "I have a feeling that might be easier said than done. I don't think Dobby will be very anxious to show his face again anytime soon."

Harry cleared his throat. "Ginny, if what Dobby said was true - "

"I know." Ginny cut him off. "I'll be quieter about this, I promise. And don't say anything to Ron either."

"Don't worry. I've absolutely no desire to."

But this proved much harder than either Harry or Ginny had hoped. As the three of them sat down together to have lunch, Ron was clearly in an irritable and flustered mood. From the occasional meaningful look that Harry sent her, Ginny could also tell that he had been behaving that way for most of the morning. She wasn't sure if Harry had figured it out, but she was sure that it had something to do with the ball, the day of which had now arrived. It had also not escaped her attention that Ron kept darting his head back and forth furtively as if trying to catch - or miss - someone or something. Ginny wondered if it was this Carolyn person but she didn't feel very inclined to ask. She sighed inwardly as she remembered her resolution of three days earlier that she would get Hermione back in time for the ball, something that now seemed laughably impossible. Ginny tried to take consolation in the fact that Ron's preoccupation with the ball would take his mind off his plan to owl their parents, at least for the time being. And it might well have done were it not for a chance comment.

"I reckon ol' McGonagall has no idea how much work she gives us!" came at the end of a long litany of Ron's complaints. "What with the three essays she's assigned, it's a wonder any of us will find the time to go to this ball tonight!" Ron glanced around the hall furtively again.

Harry and Ginny exchanged another significant look.

"Actually," said Harry, clearing his throat. "I think one of the essays might have been the one you didn't finish from earlier in the week, Ron."

"Yeah, well, I was busy with Quidditch tryouts, wasn't I? You can't expect a bloke to do homework every night! Where's all the pumpkin juice gone to?"

"I think you drank it all," remarked Ginny laconically.

"I know that! I mean, isn't someone going to come and fill up the jug? These house- elves are getting worse each year! I reckon we ought to have a caretaker here, someone to help keep them in line, be in charge, you know."

"Well, someone better than Filch, at any rate."

Ron and Harry suddenly stopped eating and looked over at Ginny.

"What?" she said. "Filch? The caretaker? Mean, nasty. Puts students in detention all the time. Has a creepy cat. Squib."

But the only response Ginny received was a rather frightened expression from Harry and a disturbingly shrewd look from Ron.

"There aren't any Squibs in this school," Ron replied, continuing to watch his sister closely. "They're not allowed. Not even on the staff. Something about keeping a line of defense in the castle at all times."

"Well, if there is a rule like that," said Ginny, meeting Ron's gaze, "then someone forgot to tell him about it."

Harry watched the exchange nervously. "I think what Ginny means is that - "

"_I_ think that Ginny has gone completely off her rocker!" decided Ron. He put his empty glass down on the table decisively. "And _you're _just encouraging her!" He pointed an accusatory finger at Harry.

Harry's nervousness vanished quickly. "I'm trying to help her!" he retorted, his anger suddenly rising.

Ron looked back and forth between Harry and Ginny and shook his head. He then pushed his chair back and got to his feet.

"That's it! I've heard enough! I can't believe I've been so stupid as to let things go like this for so long! I'm not wasting another moment; I'm going up to the owlery now and I'm going to tell Mum and Dad exactly what's happened to you. We're going to get you into St. Mungo's and get rid of the memory charm Malfoy put on you just like we should have done right at the beginning of the week!"

"Why don't you go right ahead, Ron?" said Ginny, her cheeks flushed. "That's just what Mum and Dad need right now, isn't it, something new to worry about? But do go on. I'm sure this will reassure them that you're following dutifully in Percy's footsteps!"

Ron met his sister's gaze. "You might be a little grateful that I'm doing this for your own good, you know - "

"Sorry, no!" Ginny got to her feet as well.

" - but I won't take it personally. I'll just make sure the healers can find something for your temper while they're at it!"

"Then you'll be checking in right alongside me!"

"Ron, I think maybe - "

"You stay out of this, Harry!"

"Oh, good!" said a cheery voice behind them which caused Harry to shake his head in utter disbelief. "Finally taking some action, are we?"

But Ron was equal to the challenge this time.

"That's right, Luna," he said, his eyes never leaving his battle of wills with Ginny. "I'm going to do something I should have done a long time ago."

Luna put her arms around Ron. "Oh, I knew it would be _you_ to fight the xenophobes, Ronald. You're so brave!"

Ron turned around quickly and left the Great Hall, followed closely by Ginny and Harry.

"Can we just wait a moment for Neville?" said Luna behind them. "I'm sure he wouldn't want to miss this."

But Ron, Harry, and Ginny kept walking forward purposefully and Luna was forced to run to catch up.

"Look, Ron," said Harry. "Maybe Ginny just needs some time to think through this by herself."

"I'm sorry, mate," said Ron. "But I've let you try your way the whole week and now we're going to try mine."

"How considerate of you to let me have a say," remarked Ginny.

"You know, I think you've taken a wrong turn, Ronald. The dungeons are down that way."

"Ron, I just think - "

"No, don't bother, Harry," said Ginny. "Once he's set his mind to something, it's as good as lost. I don't mind letting him make a fool of himself."

Ron stopped walking suddenly and looked suspiciously at his sister.

"What makes you think I'm going to do that?"

"Just a feeling, that's all," she said, suddenly sounding more thoughtful than angry.

Ron narrowed his eyes for a moment, then turned to look at Harry who just shrugged.

It seemed to take them ages to reach the owlery. Once they did, however, Ron wasted no time in walking straight through, causing many of the school barn owls to scatter in a m l e of flapping wings and feathers. He quickly located Pigwidgeon and beckoned him over. Pigwidgeon somersaulted in the air several times and chirped happily that he was being given an assignment.

Ron fumbled in his bag for a parchment and quill and began scrawling hastily on his knee. Pigwidgeon stopped in mid-flight, mildly confused as to why Ron didn't hava letter already prepared. He landed on Ron's shoulder and, if Harry didn't know better, he would have sworn that he was reading the letter as Ron wrote it. He looked over at Ginny and noticed that her expression of stern defiance had now been replaced by an omniscient half-smile.

Ron finished writing the letter, frowned slightly at his messy handiwork, but then quickly rolled up the parchment and moved to attach it to Pigwidgeon's leg.

"Pig, take this to Mum and - "

Ron broke off as Pigwidgeon gave a hoot of alarm and jumped backwards onto the floor of the owlery.

"Pig, stop playing around! I need you to take this letter. It's important!"

But Pig jumped further backward as Ron reached forward and then flew into the air, hooting loudly.

"Pig, what's the matter with you? I said - "

Pigwidgeon flew high up into the rafters and seemed to be trying his best to blend inconspicuously with the other owls who, if appearances could be trusted, were now huddling around him protectively.

Ron stared up after him in disbelief.

"Doesn't seem to be listening to you, Ron," said Ginny breezily.

"Useless over-feathered git!" Ron cried at Pigwidgeon. "Don't know why I put up with you when I could have gotten a decent rat instead!"

Pigwidgeon hooted indignantly in response but remained put.

Ron turned back around.

"Harry, can I use Hedwig? Please, this is important. I know what I'm doing."

Before Harry could respond, Ginny turned to him and said:

"Go on, let him, Harry. He'll just have to learn the hard way."

Ron looked back suspiciously at Ginny. Hedwig had already wandered over to Harry and was resting comfortably on his forearm. Harry nudged her slightly in Ron's direction and the snowy owl came to rest dutifully on his shoulder.

"Right," said Ron, looking a bit more relieved. "Hedwig, please - "

But as soon as Ron held out the parchment, Hedwig let out a protesting hoot of her own and flew back to Harry.

Ron sighed heavily. "You try, Harry." He handed the parchment to Harry.

"Hedwig - " Harry began.

But Hedwig turned and hooted loudly at Harry, almost as though she was trying to warn him of something. When Harry tried to offer her the parchment, she flew over to Ginny's arm and continued to hoot anxiously at Harry from afar.

Ron let out an exasperated grunt that was like something like a cross between a rhinoceros and a giant.

"It's no use losing your temper, Ronald," chided Luna. "I'm sure it's not every owl who's brave enough to send a message to the xenophobes."

"Fine!" cried Ron, looking around the room angrily. "You, over there, fat feather ball!" He pointed at a barn owl. "You look like you need some exercise. How about - "

But as soon as Ron took a step forward in the owl's direction, both he and his nearby friends flew off into the rafters, all hooting fiercely.

"It doesn't seem like anyone very much wants to deliver your message, Ron," remarked Ginny, as she gently stroked Hedwig's feathers, unable now to stop a smile from spreading fully over her face.

"What did you do to them?" Ron demanded.

"What did _I _do to them, Ron?" asked Ginny incredulously. "Listen carefully to what you're saying."

"Oh, do calm down, Ronald," said Luna. "If you'd like, you can use my owl. She's very friendly and I'm sure she'll behave well and send your letter."

Ron looked hopefully over at Luna for the first and last time.

"_You_ have an owl?" he asked.

"Oh, yes." Luna nodded sagely. "Only, I have to warn you, she stays invisible most of the time."

Ron clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Is it just me or has this whole school gone barking mad?"

Luna nodded sympathetically. "I know just how you feel," she said dreamily. "I wonder that sometimes myself."

"Right," said Ron decisively, studiously ignoring her remark. "If the owls won't take the letter, we'll have to use floo! I wanted to be discreet," he glared over at Ginny as if this was all somehow her fault, "but as it is, it seems I have no other choice!"

Ginny merely smiled in response and Ron marched past her to the owlery exit.

"He's so sexy when he gets angry like that," Luna remarked to Ginny. "I do hope Neville gets here soon or I'm afraid I might get distracted again."

Ginny chose not to comment on Luna's remark but followed her brother out of the door. Harry drew quickly up alongside her.

"Ginny, what's going on?" he whispered urgently.

"Remember when Hedwig delivered your letter to me the day we went to see Hagrid?" she whispered back.

"Yeah?"

"Well, I'm not sure, but I think it might be connected somehow. Anyhow, I can't let him floo Mum and Dad!"

Ginny walked ahead more urgently in pursuit of Ron, followed closely by Harry and Luna. As they left, however, Hedwig, who had still been perched on Ginny's arm, suddenly flew back through the owlery and out of a side window. A moment later, Pigwidgeon left his perch next to the other owls and followed her.

Ginny and Harry stopped and looked back.

"Where are they off to?" asked Harry. Hedwig had never left without him telling her before, except to get food, and there was plenty of that in the owlery.

"I don't know," said Ginny, looking after them and sounding just as puzzled as he was. "Come on, though." She touched his arm and they walked quickly after Ron, still trailed by Luna, who was gazing around as if she had never been in the school before.

They struggled to keep pace with Ron as he walked quickly down to the Gryffindor common room, almost bumping into the portrait hole when he forgot to supply the password. He cursed under his breath when it was delivered by Ginny, earning a reprimand from the Fat Lady.

"Look, Ron!" said Ginny, trying futilely to equal her brother's lanky strides as he made his way toward the fireplace. "Don't you think you're making a fool of yourself?"

"I don't care!" Ron shot back as he took a handful of floo powder into his hand.

"At least think about what effect your actions are having on others!"

Ron went an especially deep shade of scarlet. "What do you think I'm doing this for? No, Ginny, you're not stopping me, no matter what!" Ron drew up his hand to fling the floo powder into the fireplace. "I'm going to - "

But Ron never did manage to finish his sentence, nor did he have the chance to throw the floo powder. It continued to stay clenched in his hand, which remained suspended above the fireplace. Only small powdery trickles of it leaked out between his clenched fingers onto the stone floor.

For at the same moment, Hedwig and Pigwidgeon soared in through the open window of the Gryffindor common room, ran straight through Ron's lofty ginger-colored dome and landed with a noisy flapping of wings right into Ginny's quickly outstretched hands. There they delivered three parchments which bore the names of Ginny, Ron, and Harry.

There was a moment of silence. Then Ron reluctantly emptied the contents of his hand back into the holder of floo powder and walked over to Ginny and Harry, who was now standing right next to her.

"Why is he giving you _my _mail?" demanded Ron. "Stupid bird!"

"I don't know," replied Ginny, "but it's not the first time it's happened."

"All right," said Ron, sighing again. "Well, let's open them, then."

Harry cleared his throat and jerked his head in the direction of the common room where numerous pairs of Gryffindor eyes were now watching their raucous activity. Having drawn Ron's attention to this, he then pointed his head in the direction of the corridor.

"Oh, right," said Ron, as Ginny shook her head. "I suppose we'd better."

Ron, Ginny, and Harry left the common room with the two owls and three letters as discreetly as they could. Harry turned to see if Luna would try to follow them. He was pleased to discover that she had reunited with Neville and seemed to find him more interesting than a pair of strangely-behaving owls.

Once safely out in the corridor, not far from the spot where Ginny had dragged Dobby the day before, the three Gryffindors opened their letters. It did not take them long to ascertain that the content was exactly the same.

_Do not to send word of Ginny's condition by owl post, floo, or any other means to the outside world. Do not mention anything Ginny believes to have seen and remembered that differs from the memories of others in the school. Your own safety very much depends on following these instructions strictly. As difficult as this may be, I must also ask that you do not attempt to contact me or any of the other staff concerning this letter. You should attend the ball tonight and pretend that nothing untoward has occurred. In the course of time, I will, hopefully, have further information for you._

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry, Ron, and Ginny finished reading the letters and looked up, pausing for a moment to read the expressions on one another's faces. Ginny looked somewhat vindicated, Harry seemed irritated, and Ron looked completely surprised.

"What in Merlin's name is this supposed to mean?" declared Ron.

"It means that you should have taken me seriously all along!" replied Ginny.

"I _was _taking you seriously! I thought there was something _seriously_ wrong with you. Do you think I would have run around like this if I thought you were pulling my leg?"

"I mean you should have known I was telling the truth!"

"If you mean I now believe all those Muggle-borns really existed and I have some imaginary girlfriend who can't go to the ball with me because she's lost in an alternate reality, then I didn't and I still don't! What does it say here?" Ron pointed his finger at the letter. "Your _'condition?' _Doesn't sound like a ringing endorsement to me! At any rate, I think Dumbledore might have stuck his head in a Pensieve once too often already."

"Look," said Harry before Ginny could think of another retort. "No one knows better than I do what it's like to be a pawn in one of Dumbledore's plans. I didn't like it then and I like it even less now. But there's too much at stake for us not to give him the benefit of the doubt, at least for the time being. We'd just better do what he says - at least until we can come up with something else."

* * *

The Great Hall was once again transformed as the staff and students, dressed in their finest robes, began to gather for the ball. Harry and Ginny sat at one side of a round table next to Seamus and his Ravenclaw date. A single enchanted flame burned at the table's center and the soft light sparkled over Ginny's soft flawless face. The hair which she had let fall straight again in the summer was now wound tightly into elegant curls. She wore a scarlet and grey dress that left her freckled shoulders bare and hugged her growing curves closely. A long open seam on both sides allowed a rare glimpse of her legs, which were covered in a kind of shimmering grey material to match her dress. She smiled warmly at Harry and he could see from the look on her face that Ginny knew she had succeeded in banishing all thoughts of Dumbledore's schemes from his head - at least for one night. He felt his arm drift over the silky material of Ginny's dress and around her waist.

Harry and Ginny talked to Seamus and his date for a while, though Harry's eyes rarely wandered far from his girlfriend. He did notice Draco Malfoy, however, looking coolly elegant, seated at a table suitably far away and pretending to listen to the grating voice of Pansy Parkinson who was sitting next to him. Once Harry thought he saw Malfoy's head turn in his direction but it quickly returned to Pansy.

Harry also noticed that most of the teachers were seated at a table just in front of the risers. Dumbledore sat at the head wearing his usual purple cloak with yellow half-moons and stars stitched down the side. To his immediate right sat Professor Janus, dressed this time from head to toe in black, complete with another feather-capped hat, which contrasted dramatically with his pale face and blond hair and beard. To Dumbledore's left sat McGonagall and next to her, Harmon. Both of them cast the occasional suspicious look across at the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Master. Harry also noticed Hagrid was sitting at the far right end of the table next to Firenze. He tried to wave a greeting but Hagrid was not looking in his direction. He, too, kept leaning over to stare at Janus, each time looking slightly more worried and puzzled.

"I wonder where Ron has got to," said Ginny suddenly, bringing back Harry's briefly wandering attention to her, which wasn't very difficult. "Are you sure he's coming? Wasn't he sulking all afternoon?"

Harry suddenly felt a little nervous. He coughed lightly.

"Yes, I am sure. He was changing when we came down. And, er, actually - "

Harry was saved the trouble of an awkward explanation when he saw Ginny's eyes widen at something just behind him. He looked back to see Ron making his way to the adjacent chair on his right, his face extremely pale, his head turned in every direction except at his sister, and his arm entwined with Ginny's roommate, Amanda.

Amanda, for her part, seemed much less nervous. She sat down next to Ron and leaned over to talk to Ginny whose body tensed in Harry's embrace.

"Sorry we got here so late! I couldn't get the spell right to make my hair go well with this dress. I'm still not completely satisfied, really. What do you think?"

Ginny's mouth opened but no words came out. Harry found himself very grateful when the conversation was interrupted as Dumbledore got to his feet.

"I believe you all know that I very much dislike giving long speeches, especially on occasions like this," he said. "I will only say that we all know the reason we are here - "

At this, there was a loud roar of applause from the students and staff punctuated with hoots and cheering. Seamus reached over Ginny to slap Harry hard on the back.

"So," Dumbledore went on as the cheering finally died down. "Without further delay, let the ball begin!"

Dumbledore smiled during his entire short speech and the intervening applause, but Harry couldn't help feeling that it had seemed very forced. Dumbledore's eyes were missing the sparkle they had shown during the welcoming feast and later again when he and Ginny had visited his office. Perhaps it was just the dim light but Harry thought Dumbledore's face seemed much older than usual. He looked across to see that Ginny had stopped eyeing Ron and Amanda. He could tell that Dumbledore's change in mood had not escaped her attention either.

Neither Harry nor Ginny had much time to ponder their observations, however, for almost immediately following Dumbledore's "speech," lights came on over the far side of the Great Hall where a stage with an array of odd-looking instruments had appeared. Behind the instruments were several unusual-looking animals that looked like a cross between unicorns and gigantic snails. This, as Harry had been told earlier in the week by Luna, whom he'd assumed had merely been making it up, was the Garroos, an alternative band featuring magical creatures of the same name. The Garroos could only be found on a small Icelandic peninsula and were mostly unknown before the band's recent surprising popularity. A group of _avant-garde_ Ravenclaws had leaned on Dumbledore to invite them to play for the ball.

The lead Garroo (Harry did not know their names and thought they all looked the same) stepped forward and said something in a high-pitched squeaky voice that seemed to surprise most of the occupants of the hall, judging from the murmurs that arose while he, she, or it was talking. Harry had the vague sense the Garroo was trying to speak English but he could not understand any of the words. The talk was not long, however, and soon the Garroos struck up a strange but not unpleasant melody using a short but wide pair of snowy-white wings to play a harp-like instrument and their long horse-like noses to pound on a set of volcanic rocks. It was a bit like listening to phoenix song with a rumba beat.

Harry quickly got Ginny to her feet before her attention could wander back to Amanda and Ron and led her swiftly out onto the dance floor. The tempo of the music kept shifting and no one seemed very sure how to move. Harry just held onto Ginny by the hip and guided her along as best he could. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Ron was not having as much luck with Amanda, who had let out two yelps followed closely by murmured apologies from Ron. Turning back to Ginny, he was less pleased to see that her attention was also wavering to her brother and roommate whom she followed with narrowed eyes and a severe frown.

Harry cupped her chin in his hand and turned her back to face him.

"Am I so horrible to look at?" he asked.

"No, of course not, I just - "

"You used to love to look into my eyes," Harry added, before Ginny could finish her excuse.

Ginny's own eyes widened. "I still do, of course."

"Then prove it," said Harry softly, twirling her gracefully to a point in the dance floor away from Ron and Amanda.

Ginny smiled.

"You never used to have this much confidence when you danced."

"I have a good teacher."

Ginny was about to respond when Neville glided by arm in arm with a gigantic stuffed horse that looked like the mascot of a Muggle sports team.

"I wanted to come as a Garroo," said Luna's voice. "But the tail makes it difficult to move."

Sweat poured from Neville's forehead as he tried to guide Luna who was obviously having trouble seeing from inside the costume. He grasped hold of her quickly as she threatened to bound into a corner of the stage. What with Neville's clumsy footing and Luna's sightless strides, it seemed they were having a wrestling match rather than a dance. Harry found himself grateful, however, as it made Ginny giggle and took her attention away from Ron. He steered her into another corner and planted a soft kiss on her lips.

"Just forget about everything else, okay, just for tonight?"

Ginny nodded.

Harry's success in relaxing Ginny lasted as the night wore on. But his efforts were challenged during a pause in the dancing when they returned to their seats to find Amanda sitting alone, her elbow propped up ungracefully on the table and her hand in her chin. Harry quickly looked around for Ron just in time to see him heading toward the exit of the hall. He wanted to follow him but before he could excuse himself, Amanda sighed and said:

"I hate to tell you this, Ginny, but your brother's as stiff as a piece of parchment."

"Is that so?" said Ginny coolly.

"I mean," Amanda went on, missing her roommate's tone entirely, "I wanted to give him a chance, right? That's why I asked - "

"_You _asked - " Ginny's face seemed to light up like a roman candle.

"Well, yes, didn't you pay attention when I told you during Defense Against the Dark Arts? Anyway, I'm not sure it worked out very well."

"Good!" said Ginny hotly as the Garroos struck up another incongruous melody.

"Good?" said Amanda, turning around and noticing for the first time that Ginny didn't look pleased. "You're the one who's been telling me I should go out with him for the past year!"

This seemed to take the wind right out of Ginny's sails. She pointed a finger at herself. "I - told - " She sighed loudly and shook her head. "This is wrong. This is just _all _wrong."

"You're telling me," said Amanda.

"Come on, Harry." Ginny got to her feet and took hold of his arm. "It's time for another dance."

"But, wait, what about - "

But Harry found himself steered to the dance floor. This time Ginny decided to lead. Angry energy seemed to burn from her with every sharp twirl into which she steered Harry. They didn't speak for a while, then Ginny finally said between pants:

"I just wish I knew how to go about solving this mystery." She cocked her head in the direction of the staff table. "_He's_ the answer. If I could just find out how."

Harry did not need Ginny to tell him that she was looking up at Janus. Turning around, he could see that the staff table now seemed full of merriment, partly due to the wine the house-elves kept pouring into the goblets of the teachers. Hagrid seemed to have forgotten to look over at Janus now and had given his full attention to the Garroos, who obviously fascinated him. Professors Trelawney, Flitwick, and McGonagall were giggling merrily at a series of caustic jokes from Professor Harmon, who seemed in good form. The only teachers who were not joining in the merriment, however, were Dumbledore and Janus. The headmaster seemed to have dropped his pretense of happiness altogether and his face now looked very drawn and weak. Janus also looked very serious and was leaning over to say something to him in an agitated whisper. All of this seemed to be lost on the inebriated staff, however.

Ginny had obviously noticed, too.

"I wonder if Janus is controlling Dumbledore somehow," she remarked. "Maybe that's why he doesn't want me to say anything."

"I don't think Dumbledore would let someone do that very easily."

"Who knows, Harry? Who knows who Janus is or how far his powers go?"

Janus seemed to grow more agitated and started gesticulating with his finger but Dumbledore continued to listen passively. Finally, the headmaster nodded to something Janus said and the two got up to leave. They had not gotten very far, however, when a high-pitched cry rang out from one corner of the table. Both stopped and turned to see what had caused the disturbance.

Trelawney, a goblet of wine in one hand and Harmon's arm in another, was pulling the Potions master reluctantly toward the dance floor.

"Come along, Counselos," she said. "I've waited years to do this! Whoops!" Trelawney lost her balance as she staggered along to the dance floor, tipping a quantity of wine onto the floor. She recovered and hit Harmon playfully on the arm. "Naughty boy, trying to trip me up like that!" She flashed him a seductive wink.

McGonagall got to her feet and walked quickly toward the couple.

"Professor Trelawney," she said curtly. "I think - "

Trelawney turned back around and regarded McGonagall through dazed-looking eyes. "Minerva! How nice of you to join us! Perhaps we can make this a three-way affair!"

McGonagall pursed her lips.

"Professor Trelawney," she repeated, her face reddening. "I demand you return to the table at once! You are behaving in a manner unbecoming to a Hogwarts teacher!"

"Me? Unbecoming, Minerva?" whined Trelawney loudly. "Aren't I already unbecoming? Can I possibly get _more_ unbecoming than I already am? It would have been better if you'd let Umbridge sack me! At least then I wouldn't be wasting my days here, a useless old bag, while everyone prostrates before that over-hoofed beast!" She pointed a bony arm in Firenze's direction.

"Sibyll!" hissed McGonagall lividly. "You have had far too much to drink! You do not know what you are saying. Come back with me this instant!"

McGonagall tried to reach over Harmon and take hold of Trelawney's arm but the Divination teacher yanked it back. She let her still half-full goblet of wine fall to the floor, ignoring the scarlet stain that crept up the bottom of her dress from the spill. The Garroos stopped playing.

"No! I'm going to have my dance! You can't stop me! You can't - "

Trelawney's sentence ended in a sudden croak. Her face went very white and her hands flew to her throat.

"Sibyll!" cried McGonagall urgently. "Sibyll, what's - "

Trelawney fell to the dance floor on her knees, her hands still clutching her throat.

"Someone, please fetch Madam Pomfrey!" McGonagall cried. "And quick - "

McGonagall's instructions were cut off as Trelawney suddenly let out a low, rumbling cry and pushed Harmon and McGonagall aside with her hands. Chills ran up and down Harry as she opened her mouth and, in the same wide-eyed gaze and harsh voice with which he had heard her speak twice before, cried out:

"_Cursed by his enemies...left by his friends...the Dark Lord has yet now returned. Cruel and dangerous... he desires still the original prize for which he once named himself...No army awaits him but the tricks of the mind... and yet he will gather his forces._ _His enemy, our hero,_ _is lost and confused...yet never higher than now are his stakes...to lose is the end of everything but to win is to also surrender... to vanquish the Dark Lord, our hero must let go of that from which he least wants to part... cruel and dangerous... the Dark Lord... has yet now returned."_

Trelawney let out a last dramatic moan and, in the midst of the frightened gasps and cries of the on-looking students and staff, fell head first to the floor in a faint.


	5. Flight of the Bludger

**Chapter 5**

**Flight of the Bludger**

There was no sound save for the soft crunch of Ginny's footsteps against the yellow-brown leaves that now littered the desks and floor of Firenze's classroom. The Divination master himself was nowhere in sight. Gently parting the branch of a virgin oak, Ginny peered toward the front of the room and the long wizened branch of a gingko on which Firenze often sat but he was not there. Turning back around, Ginny let out a sharp gasp as the object of her search tumbled gracefully from the branches of a tall Dutch elm that straddled the ceiling and landed on his hind legs in front of her.

"You are looking for something, are you not, Ginny Weasley?"

"I - I - " Ginny started to speak but stopped as she realized her quick gasp had caused her to swallow the wrong way. She began to cough loudly.

"Gently, my young friend," cooed Firenze. He reached out a hoof to the wizened trunk which served as his chair and desk and picked out a wand which had blended seamlessly into the wood. He used it to conjure a cup and then scratched the milky white trunk of a delicate bush which had recently blossomed into spiny pink branches. A yellowish liquid trickled out from the trunk into the cup. Once the cup was half full, Firenze pushed on the trunk to seal the opening and handed the cup and its contents to Ginny, who was still coughing.

"You are rash and fast like all of your kind," he said, without a trace of reproach. "Drink this. Soothe your lungs and relax. You need not trouble yourself to speak too many words. I know why it is you are here. I've been expecting you for some time."

Ginny drank the contents of the cup as she was told. The fluid was bitter and Ginny felt an unpleasant sticky feeling on her tongue and down her throat. She was about to open her mouth to ask what vile concoction the Divination Master had given her when the sticky feeling subsided and Ginny felt a smooth, soothing sensation run over her throat and down through her lungs. It felt just like a warm bath for her insides.

Firenze looked as if he had been watching Ginny's changing facial expressions closely.

"There you are," he said finally. "Nasty on the way in but then not so awful afterward. Rather like a prophecy."

"Professor Firenze," said Ginny, looking anxious again. "I've come to ask you about - "

Firenze held up a restraining hoof.

"I told you to relax," he said quietly but firmly. "You have come to ask whether Professor Trelawney's prophecy is true. You have waited a long time to ask me this - by human standards. Often you have peered through the door to my room, wondering perhaps whether you should enter, afraid of what I might say. And now that the moon has danced for us twice in all its forms and you can no longer bear the agony churning in your heart, you have decided once and for all to seek my counsel."

Ginny hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

"That's about right, I suppose," she mumbled.

"I am glad you came to me," said Firenze after a moment's pause, "though I'm not sure I have any answers for the place in which you have chosen to put your heart."

Ginny frowned.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I don't - "

"Understand?" Firenze finished. "If I were to speak in what you call logic, you would understand even less. Let me repeat what I have said before: Professor Trelawney is a human and humans rarely see anything of importance."

Ginny brightened. "S - so," she said tentatively. "What she said could be wrong. All her prophecies could be wrong. The one about Harry having to kill Voldemort, and the last one, the one she said at the ball, the one about - "

Firenze held up a hoof again. "I did not say that what Professor Trelawney said was wrong, in the sense that you mean it."

Ginny frowned again but Firenze continued.

"But you would remiss if you did not understand the place from which it came. There is a part of Professor Trelawney that can see - not, I think, into the future, which remains as clouded to her as the leaf-filled water in her overused teacups - but deep into the human soul, deeper, perhaps even, that I could ever penetrate. Professor Trelawney, in her rare moments of understanding, can see something into the heart of the one you call Voldemort and perhaps now something into Harry Potter's heart as well. It would not surprise me, for their fates are deeply linked. But she can know nothing of the fate which moves the planets and stars."

"The fate which - I don't care about planets and stars," said Ginny, sounding slightly desperate. "If what Trelawney said was true, then this war is going to end in my death!"

Firenze's eyes widened briefly. "My poor child, you have worked yourself up into a great many assumptions."

"But they're true, aren't they?" Ginny went on, unable to stem her exasperated fear. "Trelawney said that Harry had to give up that from which he least wants to part. And I know that means me. I can see it in his eyes," Ginny added, her voice faltering slightly. "He loves me. Everything's been taken from him. And if there was one thing more he couldn't give up, it would be me."

Ginny bowed her head for a long moment. When she lifted it up again, she was surprised to find Firenze's mouth curling up into something like a smile. It narrowed again, though, as he spoke.

"You have grown up, Ginny Weasley," he said sagely, "and you are a credit to your kind and all it values. You might be wiser still if you stopped pursuing knowledge you can never achieve. Humans were never meant to see: they were meant to live and burn their lives out brightly. Sadly, there are more than a few who do not understand this. Let me put it to you in another way: you humans have pets called dogs. They are not as wise as toads, owls, and cats but they are both loyal and humorous. The dog has a habit of running around and chasing its own tail. It can never catch it but that does not stop it from chasing. To me, you are like that dog, Ginny Weasley, though your dance does not amuse me. I wish I knew some way to make you stop but I do not. I can only hope you might one day prove wiser than the dog."

Ginny felt completely non-plussed at this comparison. She was on the point of asking Firenze to explain himself more clearly but she suspected it would only leave her feeling more baffled and more dense. She did have another question, however, which she was nearly as anxious to have answered as the first.

"Professor Firenze," she said. "Do you remember Muggle-borns attending Hogwarts?"

Firenze let out a deep long horse's sigh. "I do not. But my sight in these matters is no greater than any human's."

"I think the other animals know - the owls, the house elves, the - I'm sorry," she said suddenly, her face falling.

"There is no need to apologize. I am not a human. But it might help you to know that by coming to this castle, I have, like you - but like none of the other creatures you have mentioned - been corrupted by words."

"Words?" Ginny was confused again.

"The written word," said Firenze, as if this would clarify things. "I must read here - your parchments, official owls from the school - try as I might, I cannot completely avoid these things and they cloud my sight like a poison. The other animals you have mentioned do not read. Even owls, though seeming to know the content of the letters they deliver, do a better scan of our thoughts and intentions than the words on a page."

"But I don't understand," said Ginny, determined to get a straight answer this time. "What do words have to do with memories?"

"Everything. Writing makes our memories into texts and stories. And stories can be changed and texts erased." Firenze sighed again. "Perhaps my fellow Centaurs might know but I doubt they would condescend to take an interest. In any case, they would not consort with the likes of me again."

Firenze lowered his head and looked suddenly sad and alone. Ginny tried to think of something to say to him when the Centaur raised his head again and looked at her almost engagingly.

"I confess I have filled your head with too many things at once, my brave friend. But I would leave you with one other thing that I hope you will be able to understand quite easily: call it another prophecy if you like. Your fate rests very close to Harry Potter's and it will not be so easy for either of you to be separated from the other, whatever you desire or fear. Your fate - like Harry Potter's - is also close to the one called Voldemort and your journey with him has not yet finished. If you want to know the path you must follow, you can find it only by trusting your instincts and believing in yourself. It can never be found by worshipping the words of others, however profound or true."

Ginny felt even more stupid at not comprehending the one thing she was apparently supposed to understand. She thought she should at least say something but was spared the trouble when Firenze spoke up again.

"The time has come for you to leave, Ginny Weasley. I have spoken much and I'm afraid it will cloud my thoughts if I continue. I must return to meditate. I hope we will talk again."

And before Ginny could respond, Firenze leaned backward on his hind legs and lifted himself back into the thick branches of the Dutch elm. Ginny watched him climb for a moment but then lost sight as he seemed to blend unnoticed into the tree. She let out a sigh of her own and left to rejoin Harry.

* * *

Ginny felt a strange and unexplained calm as she left Firenze's classroom and walked back up to the Gryffindor common room where she had told Harry to wait for her. It had, as Firenze had said in his own way, been two months since the night that Trelawney had delivered her untimely prophecy in front of the entire school at the ball. Trelawney herself had recovered several hours later in the hospital wing remembering nothing of her prophecy or - quite conveniently - the drunken words that had immediately preceded them. Not having heard any of her other prophecies, no one in the school had seemed to know what to make of this one. Some had panicked on hearing the news, most of them Trelawney's favorite students and staunchest supporters. Parvati Patil had locked herself in her dormitory for two days and emerged only when Professor McGonagall had ordered the house elves to stop delivering her food and drink. Most of the students, however, after initially getting caught up in the hysteria of Trelawney's dramatic performance, had calmed considerably and now seemed to regard the whole incident as something of a joke, particularly since nothing untoward had happened in the meantime. The staff, for their part, had mostly seemed annoyed at Trelawney's antics. On one occasion, Ginny had distinctly heard McGonagall whisper something that sounded like "old cow" as she had left the staff table at breakfast.

Though she had become used to disguising both her knowledge and her fears in front of others, Ginny could not feel as calm as the others in the school. She had been caught off guard when Trelawney had first spoken and it had taken her some while to realize that what she had heard was a prophecy. But once she had accepted this fact, it had not taken Ginny long to reach the conclusion that Trelawney had been trying to foretell Ginny's own demise. She knew that Harry thought this as well, and he had tried and failed to mask his own fears before her. Ginny's conclusions were reinforced by her own continued ability to remember people that no one else - no one human, at any rate - could remember. No one had disappeared since Filch but given Trelawney's ominous prediction, this was very small comfort.

Still, there was something Firenze had said, though Ginny could not recall exactly what, that left her feeling much more at peace with herself than she had been ever since that night, perhaps ever since that awful first day when the Muggle-borns had disappeared. Whatever that feeling was, however, seemed to vanish as soon as soon as she walked into the common room and saw the anxious expression on Harry's face.

"What did he say?" he asked.

Ginny sat down on the sofa beside Harry and paused. She looked into his anxious green eyes and tried to recall anything substantive that had come out of Firenze's mouth but her mind seemed to have gone completely blank.

"Well, he..." Ginny's voice trailed off and she sighed. "It was all about planets and fate and dogs chasing their tails. I couldn't make much sense of it."

"Did he - " Harry paused.

"He said Trelawney might have been right, yes," Ginny finished.

Harry was unable to conceal a frantic fear from burning out of his eyes.

"But did he say she could be wrong?"

"Well, he left open the possibility, I suppose."

Harry's lips tried to smile but eyes were not convinced. "You know, Ginny," he said, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Think about it. Why did Trelawney go all funny like that right in front of the school? It was just the thing to give her the attention she wanted, just the thing to make Dumbledore think she was still indispensable when everyone else was writing her off. It was just a big awful show, that's all."

Ginny held Harry's gaze for a moment and watched his smile fade.

"You don't really believe that, do you, Harry?" she said softly.

Harry wanted to say something to reassure Ginny but all he could think of was that stifling hot day in Trelawney's classroom when she had spoken in the same horrible raspy whisper, foretelling how Wormtail would return to Voldemort and begin the second war that night and how he had watched exactly the events that she had described unfold before his disbelieving eyes. It was exactly why he had never doubted that the prophecy Dumbledore had replayed for him two years before in his office was true. And, in his heart of hearts, he knew that this one was also.

"Please don't lie to me, Harry," Ginny whispered, as she found herself met with silence.

"No," said Harry finally. "I don't. But Ginny..."

Harry stopped himself from speaking again as tears began to roll down Ginny's cheeks.

"Thank you for telling me the truth," she said, wiping at her eyes and nose with a corner of her robes.

"Look," said Harry gently, seeming determined not to stand powerless before Ginny's tears again. "The prophecy might not have meant you. There are a lot of things I would hate to be without: being a wizard, for instance," he added, seeming happy to have seized on an alternative explanation. "Perhaps I'll have to lose all my powers to defeat Voldemort."

But Ginny did not stop crying.

"Would you give those up for me?" she said, sobbing.

Harry sighed.

"Yes."

"Then I think you have your answer, Harry."

"Look," Harry said again, his face hardening. "Maybe she did mean you. I don't care. I gave up parents to him; I gave up my godfather; and if what you've been saying all year is true, I've given up one of my best friends as well. I'm not giving up you."

Ginny forced herself to look directly into Harry's eyes and keep her voice steady. "Harry," she said, "he's killed so many people. He's destroyed so many lives. You know that. If you have to give me up to kill him then you shouldn't hesitate."

"NO!" cried Harry suddenly. "I'M NOT GIVING YOU UP! I DON'T CARE WHAT HAPPENS! I DON'T CARE WHAT HE DOES. I'M JUST NOT!"

"Harry, you might have to!"

"I DON'T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING! WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME? WHY SHOULD I HAVE TO LOSE EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING I CARE ABOUT JUST SO EVERYONE ELSE CAN BE HAPPY? WHAT HAVE THEY EVER DONE FOR ME?"

"Harry, you can't think that way! It's not up to you!"

"Isn't it?" Harry hissed. "Trelawney said that I could win or lose. That sounds to me like it's going to be my choice. And I choose to lose."

"Well, I don't!" shouted Ginny. "And it may not be my choice but it's my life and my wish. And if you really love me, you'll respect that!"

Ginny's assertion was followed only by dead silence. It seemed that Harry's jaw might never make it up to his mouth again so Ginny picked up the two broomsticks that were resting on the table beside them and handed Harry his.

"Come on," she said, putting her hand on his arm. "The others are already waiting, aren't they? We've got a game to play."

* * *

Harry wondered if the silence between him and Ginny would continue all the way to the Quidditch pitch and found himself barely restraining a guilty desire that it would. Ron had stubbornly refused to believe that Professor Trelawney's prophecy was true (much as he had refused to believe the last one) and continued to insist that the only person whose memory had been tampered with was his sister. But the significance of Trelawney's latest prophecy had not been lost on Harry and much had changed for him since that night of the ball. Trelawney's comments about Voldemort's mind games had seem to confirm everything Ginny had been saying since the beginning of the year. Harry had found himself shifting from the awkward struggle to find what was wrong with Ginny while still respecting her feelings and dignity to the fantastic possibility that she might have been telling the truth all along. He had not yet decided which made him feel more uncomfortable.

And then there was Trelawney's final and most disturbing claim: that after already giving up anything and everything he had cared about and somehow still surviving, Harry had to give up yet one more thing - and whatever it was, it would that which he could least be without.

Trelawney's unconscious body had hardly reached the hospital wing that night when Harry had decided that she must have meant Ginny. He remembered vividly how Professor Nevins had opened the cupboard in his office the year before to let out a Boggart in the form of his lifeless and accusing girlfriend. He also recalled how it had taken him so long to admit his feelings for Ginny because he had been afraid that if he had, he would lose her just like he had lost his parents and Sirius. And after Trelawney's latest prophecy, it seemed like this worst of all his fears might come true.

But Harry had still comforted himself with one belief, a secret, hidden conviction that he had told no one about - not Ron, not Ginny - but had left burning in his heart until it had kindled a small but comforting warmth in the renewed turbulence of his life: he was not going to give up Ginny. He was going to take control. And if that meant Voldemort would win, then so be it.

Harry had tried many means to justify this conviction to himself. He could not escape the fact that Voldemort had only rained down misery and suffering on the wizarding world but what had that to do with him? If it weren't for Trelawney's first miserable prophecy, Voldemort could have cared less about him or anyone he cared about. And what had he gotten in return? Abandonment, unwanted hero worship, jealousy, and disbelief when he had most needed support.

Part of Harry had realized that his heart was traveling to a dangerously dark place. But the more he had thought about, the more the uncomfortable truth seemed to stick. He had tried to tell himself that he couldn't allow Voldemort to win because if he did, he would just bring more suffering to the people Harry loved. But when Harry had thought things over more carefully, this didn't seem to ring quite so true: the people he loved most in the world were the Weasleys, yet he couldn't imagine how he could ever face them again if he let Ginny die. Did Voldemort have a worse fate planned for them than the death of their only sister and daughter? The more Harry had thought about it, the more he decided that Voldemort would probably leave the Weasleys alone if it weren't for him.

Harry had tried to think up other examples but they all had seemed to fall flat. He had once cherished unsullied admiration for Dumbledore. But now, even after the headmaster claimed to have realized his mistake in keeping Trelawney's first prophecy from Harry, he was still using him as a pawn in his elaborate schemes, both last year and now again this. He had thought of Professor Lupin, how he had been one of his father's closest friends, how he had risked his life to save Harry's at the end of his fifth and then again at the beginning of his sixth year. Yet even Harry's feelings for the closest person to a mentor he had left alive seemed tarnished by their recent and unexpected meeting just a week after the ball.

* * *

It had been just after Charms. Ron had gone on to Divination with Firenze and Harry had been walking by himself back up to the common room. He had passed just in front of the corridor that led up to Dumbledore's office and happened to glance over to the stone gargoyle at the far end. He had formed a habit of doing this of late. Usually, of course, the entrance remained closed and the expression on the gargoyle's face impassive and innocent, perhaps as Dumbledore had intended it.

But this time, the entrance had been open. Harry had paused curiously at his end of the corridor without moving forward. A moment later, however, a tall figure in slightly tattered robes had emerged from the doorway, looked furtively right and left (but not back in Harry's direction) and then walked briskly to his left.

Harry had paused for a moment but had then run quickly in pursuit of his quarry, for he had had no doubt of the person's identity.

"Professor Lupin!" he had called.

No response.

"Professor Lupin!" Harry had called again, now almost at the entrance to the gargoyle.

But there had still been no response. Harry had watched Lupin running quickly toward the staircase at the end of the corridor. Lupin had kept looking furtively back and forth as if he hadn't wanted to be seen. But he hadn't yet looked back to see Harry.

"Professor Lupin!" Harry had cried a third time. He had been sure his former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must have heard him this time but Lupin had still kept walking forward, if anything quickening his pace. Harry had then broke into a sprint and was running alongside Lupin before he was forced to turn around and acknowledge him.

Lupin had looked directly into Harry's uncertain face. Harry had kept trotting for a moment but then Lupin had stopped and Harry had matched his movements. Perhaps for only a split-second, neither had said anything to the other. It had been long enough for Harry to read confusion, fear, and even something almost like awe on Lupin's face. Then all of this had faded and Lupin had managed a tepid smile.

"Harry," he had said.

"Professor Lupin, what are you doing here? Why didn't you tell me you were coming to Hogwarts? I haven't seen you in ages. I - I'm sorry I haven't written."

Lupin's smile had broadened and he had placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"It's all right, Harry," he had said. "I know you've been busy. I've come on business of Dumbledore's. I knew I wouldn't be long and I'm in a bit of a rush so I thought I wouldn't tell you I was coming this time. Perhaps I should have. I'm sorry."

Harry had frowned. "Didn't you hear me calling you just now?" he had said.

Lupin's face had clouded briefly but then he had smiled again and said:

"No, Harry, I didn't. I'm afraid I must have been a bit distracted."

Lupin's smile had faded soon after he had finished his sentence, however, possibly after he had seen the suspicious expression on Harry's face.

"You're here on Order business, aren't you?" Harry had said.

Lupin had lowered his eyes. "In a way, Harry, yes."

"In a way?" Harry had lowered his voice. "This is about Ginny's memories, isn't it?"

Lupin had then made no attempt to disguise the look of fear and alarm on his face. He had lowered his voice, too.

"Harry, you shouldn't have said that to me just now. You don't know what I knew and didn't know."

"Can't I trust _you_?"

"That's not the point, Harry," Lupin had replied, his grey eyes darting around again nervously. "You and Ginny must keep that to yourselves. The Order is trying to prepare - in secret. There are eyes and ears everywhere, Harry. If someone were to overhear us, it could jeopardize everything we're working for."

"Prepare for what?"

"I - I can't say, Harry."

"You can't tell _me_? No, wait," Harry had added before Lupin had been able to respond. "I'm too young. I'm not in the Order. It doesn't matter that this is all about me - or Ginny. I have to be _protected. _How am I doing so far?"

"You don't understand, Harry."

"Then _help_ me to understand!"

Harry had been pleased to find a flicker of remorse in Lupin's eyes but then his jaw had hardened and he had said, still in a whisper:

"It's not up to me, Harry. It's not about your age this time; it's not about protecting you or protecting Ginny. It's about something else - someone else. If you knew, you'd realize but..." Lupin had hesitated. "No, I - I can't. I hope we'll be able to tell you everything soon."

Lupin had started to walk toward the stairs again but Harry had followed him.

"_How _soon?"

"I can't say, Harry. I honestly don't know. Just - just trust us, please, one more time. And prepare. Concentrate on your lessons, especially with Professor - with Professor Janus." Lupin had tried to smile with mixed success. "I'll come back for your first Quidditch game, I promise. We'll see each other then."

"Yeah," Harry had said, a little hollowly. "See you."

* * *

Harry was not sure what, if anything, Lupin had wanted to tell him during their talk but the only thing he could remember was how yet another person he had trusted and believed in was now wound up in Dumbledore's duplicitous plans and schemes. It seemed almost impossible for him to believe that the very same person who had questioned his role in Dumbledore's plans the previous year, and had so openly resented the headmaster's lack of trust and piecemeal feeding of information, could condone inflicting the same mental torture on Harry again. He had wondered whether Sirius would have done the same were he still alive and quickly decided that he wouldn't have.

And so Harry had retreated to the ever-more comfortable rebellion he had built in his heart. Others may have had a plan for him, but Harry had his own plan, and that was not giving up Ginny, no matter the cost.

If anyone had pressed him on the matter, Harry would have been devastated at the thought of Lupin dying cruelly at Voldemort's hand and would have said he would do anything to prevent it. And it was precisely because he did not want anyone to press him this way that he had not shared his feelings with anyone, preferring instead to wallow in the fantasy of his control over his own destiny, fueled by his resentment to all those who would control his fate instead. Perhaps it was just this matter of control that most vexed him. It had certainly seemed that way when, several weeks after his encounter with Lupin, Professor Janus had called him to their first private Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.

Harry had not entered the lesson in a very good mood, partly because, like Ginny, he now believed that Janus was at the center of a great deal of the mystery surrounding her lost memories. Harry had also decided for himself, perhaps somewhat arbitrarily, that Janus could not prove a suitable replacement for Professor Nevins. Nevins had also been involved in keeping things from Harry at one point, but at least he had finally confessed to his dark past with Harry's parents. Janus, however, clearly had a great many secrets: some that he was only telling Dumbledore and others that he might not be telling anyone. Harry had decided before their lesson began that no matter what happened, he wasn't going to trust Janus and, as a result, he fully expected there would be little he would learn from him that term.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Janus had bellowed as Harry had entered the room, looking up at him from beneath a pretentious mahogany hat which Harry had found the sudden desire to rip off and incinerate. "Come for your first lesson, now, excellent! No need to take a seat; we'll be on our feet for most of this."

Harry had not responded but instead had stood right in front of Janus' desk, taken out his wand, and held to his side to show that he was ready.

"Got your wand out, I see," Janus had said jovially. "That's the spirit, yes." Janus had taken hold of Harry's shoulders and placed him squarely in front of him. Harry had found himself a little too surprised to resist but found that it made him very annoyed afterwards.

"Now, then, Mr. Potter," Janus had continued, ignoring the slight scowl on Harry's face. "Do you remember my little sword demonstration from the first day?"

"Are we going to duel just like you and Neville did - sir?" Harry had, unable to keep a derisive tone from sneaking out of his lips.

"Not with swords, Mr. Potter," Janus had said, appearing to miss the tone completely. "You notice I don't wear my sword much anymore."

Harry had but didn't say anything.

"That sword demonstration was merely a means to an end," Janus had concluded enthusiastically. "When it comes to seventh year, you've seen a great deal of wand dueling. Changing the weapon teaches you to expect the unexpected, to always be on your guard, not to become too brash and think that you can know and respond to everything. It challenges the mind's perception of what it thinks it knows and that can be the most powerful weapon of all. But as this is our first lesson, Mr. Potter, I think we'll begin with a little review and assessment - _tarantallegra!"_

Janus' wand had flown out of his side pocket and into his hand before he had finished his sentence but Harry's reflexes had been quicker.

"_Magnum Impedio! Expelliarmus!" _he had cried.

Janus' hex had hit a blocking field and then his wand had spun out of his hand and high into the air before bouncing harmlessly off a chair and desk in another part of the room. It had rolled on the floor until hitting a point on the wall where it had stopped.

Harry had half-expected Janus to make some feeble excuse about his wand-casting abilities. It was something Gilderoy Lockhart might have done and Harry was beginning to feel that Janus reminded him of one of his least successful Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. But Janus had flashed him a large toothy grin that, with his outfit, made him look like a pirate who has gotten his first whiff of a siege.

"Very good, Mr. Potter. Very good indeed," Janus had said, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

Harry had kept his gaze steady and his wand firmly fixed on the Defense teacher in case he tried another quick maneuver but Janus had absently recalled his wand and held it at his side. Harry had then watched as he had sat down in the first row of desks and crossed one leg over another nonchalantly.

"I see I shall not make a worthy opponent for one with your already considerable skill, Mr. Potter. But I venture to say I still know a few tricks you do not and I hope that I will be able to teach some of them to you this term. Perhaps I should start, however, by seeing what else you have learned."

Janus had then waved his wand absently again. Harry's cynicism of Janus' abilities had abruptly vanished as Lucius Malfoy appeared unexpectedly out of thin air from behind Janus' desk. Harry had looked back and forth between Janus and Malfoy in disbelief before raising his wand at Malfoy who responded by drawing his own elegantly sheathed wand from out of the inside of his robes.

"Mr. Potter," he had said. "The trouble you have caused us all."

"I believe you are familiar with Lucius, Mr. Potter," Janus had said airily, "both his acerbic tongue and his witless wand skills. Nevertheless, I believe he may prove a good - "

But Harry had not waited for Janus to finish his instructions. He had pointed his wand at Malfoy and cried out:

"_Stupefy!" _

_"Expelliarmus!" _Malfoy had responded.

Harry had been vaguely aware of Janus attempting to coach directions from the side but he had neither heard nor cared to hear them. The only thing that had been on his mind was stopping Malfoy, of eliminating him, of putting him out of the way as one might a persistent mosquito. But Malfoy had fought with an almost equal rage. First he had tried to disarm Harry but then when that had not succeeded, he had thrown unforgivable curse after unforgivable curse at him. Deep burn marks had scorched the floor; chairs had been shattered like stacks of toothpicks. Both wizards had rolled and ducked around the floor picking up the dust and debris on their robes. Harry had not known whether this was the real Lucius Malfoy he had been facing and whether the Cruciatus curses he was throwing at Harry would have twisted his body in agony the same way the fake Moody had tortured a spider in the very same room many years before. Whatever the case, he had had neither the time nor the inclination to decide. Every action and reaction he had taken against Malfoy was reflex.

The fight wore on for what had seemed to Harry like hours, but was perhaps only a few minutes. He had felt his body tiring and knew he had not truly prepared either mentally or physically for his lesson ahead of time. He had grown soft as Janus had warned him on the first day of class not to and this realization had made Harry angrier than any of the hexes Malfoy was throwing at him. Finally, Malfoy had pinned Harry back against the far wall of the classroom. Harry had become aware that Janus had now gotten to his feet, shouting at Harry to do something, but all Harry had been able to hear was the sound of exploding furniture as Malfoy had methodically removed the obstacles that stood between him and his quarry.

"You needn't resist any further, Potter," Malfoy had hissed angrily. "I've killed all of your foul-blooded friends and now I've come for you. _Avada - _"

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

Sweat pouring down his face and stinging his eyes, Harry had picked up a very long table, behind which he had been crouching and, ignoring the protesting instructions of Janus, thrown it toward Malfoy. Malfoy had obliterated it with his wand but flinched as the shattered pieces had showered his head with debris. In that moment of distraction, Harry had taken his wand into his less sweaty left palm and aimed it firmly at Malfoy.

"_Stupefy!" _he had cried.

The light from Harry's wand had hit Malfoy squarely in the stomach. His eyes changing from angry determination to surprise, the Death Eater had fallen backwards onto his back.

"Very good, Harry," Janus' voice had said from somewhere far away. "I thought for a moment - "

"_AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA - "_

Harry had stopped only as he had become aware, somewhere beyond the loud sounds of the searing green lights coming out of his wand and lighting up Malfoy's inert body, of another figure standing before him. He had raised his wand to strike his next opponent only to see at the last minute the uncharacteristically alarmed face of Janus cry out:

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Harry's wand had flown up into the air as Janus' had done a short while before and collided innocently against the blackboard. He had sat on his knees for a moment, panting hard and staring up at the surprised Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He did not want to think about whether, at that moment, he would have struck Janus, or with what curse he would have tried to strike him.

"You have killed Mr. Malfoy several times over," Janus had said after a long pause. "I think it is time for a rest. I will give you the benefit of the doubt that you realized he was an impostor." Janus had looked meaningfully down at the body of the bogus Malfoy. Harry had noticed for the first time that his eyes were staring straight up at the ceiling of the room and his breathing seemed to have stopped. A few moments later, Malfoy had taken on a pale white glow and gone transparent, something like a ghost. Within a few more minutes, all trace of him had vanished from the floor completely.

Janus had braved a smile. "Very realistic. For a few minutes at least until the spell wears off." He had looked up at Harry. "You lost control of yourself, Mr. Potter. If this had been a real Death Eater - "

"I needed to make sure he was dead," Harry had said suddenly, surprised at the hoarseness in his voice. "I needed to make sure he couldn't hurt anyone again. I needed to make sure that the prophecy couldn't come true, that he - or Voldemort, or any of them - could never come back and kill Ginny. I couldn't stop them from killing my parents, from killing my godfather. But I'm going to stop them from killing her. I don't care how."

"None of those things were your fault, Harry," Janus had murmured, almost inaudibly.

Harry had looked up and felt surprised to see that anyone else was there. He had gotten quickly to his feet, followed by Janus, whose expression now seemed to have become carefully neutral. Harry suddenly realized that he had said far too much in front of someone he should have known better than to trust. He especially shouldn't have mentioned his "godfather" and hoped Janus wouldn't follow up on the matter. Perhaps the Defense teacher had planned to get Harry off his guard. Perhaps he was even using these lessons to analyze his weaknesses and discover as much about him as he could.

"I'm sorry," Harry had said stiffly. "I didn't mean to lose control. It won't happen again, sir."

A twinge of disappointment played over Janus' features before the mask fell again.

"Just stay focused, Mr. Potter," he had said. "And never be too sure of what you know."

Oh, I won't, Harry had thought. Not again.

"I think that will be all for our first lesson," Janus had said. "You probably need a shower and a rest before your class at this rate. I know enough to prepare what I hope will prove a useful curriculum of lessons for you this term. And don't worry about the mess. It's easily taken care of."

Harry had looked around him to notice that the front third of the room had been more or less obliterated. He had managed a slightly embarrassed nod to Janus. But before leaving, he had asked:

"Can you teach me to do that, too, sir, conjure an opponent like that? Then I could practice - "

But Janus had shaken his head.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter," he had said, giving Harry a Cheshire-cat smile. "Not all skills can be taught. And besides," he had added with an oddly dark smile. "You might not like what you would have to become to gain an ability like that."

* * *

"Just listen to him! He's full of dark magic!" Ginny had insisted as they had sat down to dinner that evening and Harry had told her and Ron what had happened during the lesson. "Whoever heard of conjuring a real person like that? Just like apparating into a classroom. But you had the right idea, Harry," she had added, digging her fork aggressively into a large potato. "Keep asking him questions. _We_ have to find out things from him, not him from us."

But this had not proved very easy. In their lessons of the following weeks, it had become slowly clear that Janus seemed to know a great deal more about Harry than he was comfortable with. Harry's own carefully timed questions about Janus' mysterious past and esoteric magical knowledge, however, were deflected as skillfully as a well-placed blocking charm.

But whatever Harry's resentment and suspicion toward Janus, the lessons had not been in vain. Janus had taught Harry a number of useful spells - and not all of them had been for defense. Janus had made no secret of the fact he was preparing Harry for a struggle where he would be expected to take the initiative.

Yet perhaps the most useful lesson of all had been the first and not because of any new tactical skills Harry had learned in his duel against the bogus Lucius Malfoy. The day of that lesson was the first time Harry had truly understood why, ever since the night of Trelawney's prophecy (and perhaps long before that), he had tried to build in his heart a wall of resistance against the responsibilities and expectations that had been piled upon him by the wizarding world. He had realized that what he feared most was being controlled - by Dumbledore's elaborate schemes, by Voldemort's conniving plots, and most of all by the icy hand of fate issuing again and again from the raspy lips of Professor Trelawney. Harry had nurtured his private rebellion because he had wanted to control his own destiny just as surely as he had used his wand to pummel killing curse after killing curse into the body of Lucius Malfoy. He had wanted to save the ones he loved instead of watching them taken away from him again and again by forces he could not control.

And whether she had realized it or not, Ginny had thrown Harry's desire for control right back in his face that morning. She had made it very clear that she was not about to surrender her own fate to him just as he wasn't willing to give in to a prophecy. But Harry was also still very sure that he would rather die than to give Ginny up and so he still found himself lost, confused, and if he had dared admit it to himself - frightened.

And as they neared the stadium, he couldn't imagine how he was going to muster a pre-game talk to the team after all this. Why, after two months of hesitation, had Ginny chosen _this _morning to go and finally go and ask Firenze about the prophecy?

Then again, Harry thought to himself with a slightly ironic smile that Ginny noticed but did not question, perhaps Ginny knew as he did that if there was anything that could take one's mind away from even from its worst excruciations, it was Quidditch.

* * *

There had been times in the past two months when Ginny had been afraid that if she had dared to stop for a moment and think through everything that had been thrust upon her she would have surely sunk into a hole from the weight of it all. Perhaps that was why she had waited so long to finally ask Firenze about the prophecy. In the days leading up to her visit with the Divination master, she had tried to tell herself that by talking to him she could at least lift one crushing burden from her chest but now she felt, if it were possible, even worse than she had before.

As the door opened to the pitch and rare rays of autumn sunlight bathed Ginny's face, she shot a quick look across to catch Harry and was relieved to see him, in turn, look back in her direction. The last thing Ginny had wanted was to hurt Harry and yet she knew that her words in the common room had cut him deeply. But he had needed to know - for his sake as well as hers - that it wasn't all just about him. If things were as dire as they seemed, Harry needed to understand that she would be no more an object of his heroism, however well-intentioned, than she would be a tool of Voldemort's dark plans. She flashed him a brief wink which was reciprocated with a half-smile. A moment later, Ginny took hold of her humming Firebolt and flew off with Harry and the rest of her teammates over the pitch.

A feeling of angst filled Ginny's heart once again as she noticed that the top few rows of each of the audience sections were empty. She wondered if anyone else had stopped to think why so many stands had been built if there weren't enough students to fill them. No doubt their altered memories had some explanation, however unrealistic in Ginny's own mind, for this incongruity.

Ginny felt somewhat brighter, however, when she noticed that the noise from the crowd was still nearly as loud as it had been when the whole school had been present. The small but raucous cadre of Gryffindors seemed to be making up for in noise what they now lacked in number. She clutched hold of her Firebolt tightly as if controlling her play on the Quidditch pitch could solve all the burdens that had been thrust upon her in real life. As the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs circled the field in their final warm-ups, Ginny swooped by her cheering housemates and then the staff box, resulting in a wave and a wink from Hagrid and a surprising bow and tip of a velvet blue hat on the part of Professor Janus. Ginny then arched widely over the still full Slytherin section, the bristles of her broomstick just kissing the hairs on the heads of the assembled students. She looked back and exchanged a significant glance with Malfoy, who was sitting between Crabbe and Goyle with his legs lazily propped up against the seat in front of him. Madame Hooch then flew by, saying nothing, but with a severe expression of warning on her face. Yet Ginny only found herself regretting that she hadn't swooped a bit lower and taken Malfoy's head along with her for the ride. As if ending all this would be as easy as getting rid of Malfoy, she sighed to herself.

Madam Hooch then blew her whistle twice to signal that the teams should assemble into their starting positions. Ginny took her position in between Susan Richards and Marvin Berke, who had ended up making the team, largely by default. After a long and pedantic speech about fair play, Madam Hooch released the Quaffle. Ginny made a grab for it at the same time as Marla Banks, the Hufflepuff Chaser, and between them they managed to knock it off to the side. Ginny looked over and was pleased to see that it was heading straight toward Marvin. She felt much less happy, however, when Marvin grabbed at the Quaffle and missed, looking astonished as his hands clutched around thin air. It then fell into the possession of Malcolm Grine, another Hufflepuff Chaser who swooped underneath Marvin and headed straight toward the Gryffindor goal. Ginny could vaguely hear Harry shouting instructions to Marvin from high above the play as Marvin continued to look around witlessly for the Quaffle. Ginny tried to chase after Grine herself but her movement forward was roughly blocked by Banks and Rhys Jones, the other Hufflepuff chaser, who continued to shadow her on defense for the rest of the game, paying little attention to Susan and Marvin, who seemed to be running defense against themselves. Ginny could only watch helplessly as Grine swept down the pitch unchallenged and quickly scored against Ron.

As the game continued, Hufflepuff's strategy of shadowing Ginny proved frustratingly effective. They were even able to leave one Chaser free and up the field when they were defending - usually Grine - which led to several quick passes and breakaway goals. Ginny kept trying to break free of the stifling defensive pair but it was like trying to walk in a straight jacket. The only times she was able to get her hands on the Quaffle was when Jack Sloper swiped and missed Bludgers headed in her direction which Ginny managed to decoy toward Banks and Jones.

It was during one such play well into the one-sided contest that Ginny managed to finally break free. On this occasion, the other Gryffindor Beater, Alex King, who was little better than Sloper, tried to hit an errant Bludger away from Harry but it had deflected off the top of his bat and headed straight toward Ginny instead. Watching the Bludger come ever closer, Ginny braved herself to hover in place using her body to block it from the view of her Hufflepuff defenders. At the last minute, she twisted her body sideways and the Bludger flew past her and straight toward Banks and Jones. They, too, managed to swerve away in time but the distraction allowed Ginny to break away.

Ginny clutched her Firebolt, willing it forward like a thoroughbred. She hoped it was faster that whatever it was that Banks and Jones were riding. But Ginny also knew that her flight to freedom would do no good if she had no Quaffle to score with. After putting some distance between herself and her pursuers, she swerved around to see that Susan still held the Quaffle in her hands, though she was being dogged all the way by Grine. Ginny barely registered that her team was still on the offensive when another welcome sight flew fast over her head: the golden snitch weaved and dived through the air, glistening like a hummingbird against the clear blue sky. It traced a path toward the Hufflepuff goalposts before knifing back to Ginny's right. She felt herself speed up again instinctively before she remembered that she was no longer the seeker on this team.

Ginny was just hoping that Harry had seen it, too, when he raced over her head toward it at an impossible speed, trailed at a distance by the Hufflepuff Seeker Brian Dent. She was sure he would catch it and save Susan from needing to make an impossible pass to Ginny. But to her surprise, Harry moved into position just in front of the Snitch but did not close his hand over it. Instead, he continued to shadow it closely, mirroring its wayward journey. Dent finally caught up to Harry and followed both him and the Snitch. Harry twisted his broomstick back and forth in the air, apparently trying to block Dent's approach, but he still did not catch the Snitch himself.

Without turning back to look at the scoreboard, Ginny quickly realized the reason for Harry's strange strategy: Gryffindor was now so far behind Hufflepuff that even if Harry caught the Snitch, the resulting one hundred and fifty points would not be enough for Gryffindor to pull ahead and win the game. The best Harry could do was to try and stop Dent from catching it. The rest would have to be up to the Gryffindor Chasers. Judging from the way her teammates had played the game so far, Ginny realized that mostly meant her.

There had been a time when playing Hufflepuff meant a sure and easy win for the Gryffindor Quidditch team but Ginny forced that thought back with her other inconvenient memories as she had for the past two months, trying to concentrate on the play that was developing around her. Banks and Jones had gained some ground on her but she was still ahead of them. She screamed at Susan who suddenly noticed she was open and up the field ahead of her. Ginny held her breath as Susan ducked quickly under Grine. In the brief instant before the Hufflepuff returned to her side, Susan threw back her hand and tossed the Quaffle over toward Ginny with such force that she almost tumbled off her broomstick.

The Quaffle was aimed slightly behind Ginny but she was able to reach back and grab it. She looked briefly to see that while Banks and Jones had gained some ground, they were still behind her. She accelerated toward the hoops, Quaffle in hand, her anticipation growing in step with the widening eyes of the Hufflepuff Keeper Eleanor Branstone. But watching her defense pull away, Branstone took the initiative and moved out from the hoops to take away the angle from Ginny's shot. Branstone's aggressive goaltending forced Ginny further to her left. She slowed her movement to avoid passing the hoops but this allowed Jones, who had pulled ahead of his fellow Chaser, to catch up with her. Ginny quickly found herself being forced out of the play.

But just as Branstone and Jones had nearly completed their trap, Ginny heard a voice screaming her name. She flicked her eyes but not her head and saw that Susan had somehow escaped from Grine and was now flying quickly up the right side of the field unguarded. Looking back at Banks and Branstone, she could see that neither seemed to have noticed and both continued to concentrate fully on stopping Ginny from scoring. Even when Jack Sloper's unmistakable half-broken voice shouted her name a split-second later, presumably to alert her unnecessarily that Susan was open, neither of the Hufflepuffs moved to block the pass. Keeping her eyes firmly trained on the left post, Ginny faked her shot long enough for Branstone to dive before swooping the Quaffle across the front of her body like a pendulum and out toward Susan. Only then did Ginny turn to look at her teammate. Susan seemed just as surprised as Banks and Branstone when the Quaffle came her way. She closed her hands around it awkwardly and for a moment Ginny was sure she would drop it but she managed to hold on. Realizing only too late his defensive mistake, Jones rushed toward Susan but there was far too much ground to cover. Susan scooped the Quaffle awkwardly into the open right hoop like throwing a log on a fire. Gryffindor had finally scored.

It was only after Susan had turned around to make her own victory dance that Ginny turned her own head back toward the open field, raising her hand in hard-won victory.

And it was only then that Ginny realized why Jack Sloper had been shouting at her. For inches away from her face and moving toward it at breakneck speed was a Bludger. In a moment of astonished thought that preceded all of her reflexes, Ginny wondered how it was that she could not have heard the ominous whistling sound of the incoming Bludger that now filled her ears with noise and her heart with fear. She twisted her broomstick and brought her hands to her face but it seemed that all of her reactions were coming in slow motion. The best Ginny could do was squint her eyes shut against the oncoming impact.

Which never came.

A few seconds passed before Ginny dared to open her eyes and saw, to her relief and astonishment that the Bludger was now moving away from her just as fast as it had come. It almost seemed like it had hit up against an invisible wall right in front of her face. Utterly baffled but grateful to whichever god had managed to leave her face intact, Ginny noticed for the first time that Jack was hovering about fifty yards away, the broken end of a bat in his hand, and a horribly pale look on his face.

Ginny was about to fly toward him - to admonish or comfort she did not know - when she noticed that the rest of the team had gathered on the field along with the Hufflepuffs. She flew toward Jack and pointed him to the field before he could open his mouth to apologize. As soon as she hit the ground she saw Harry running toward her looking stricken.

"Goddess!" he exclaimed, touching her face to make sure it was still in one piece. "B - but," he stammered, drawing his hand back and smiling incredulously. "You're all right! B - but how? I don't understand! That Bludger hit you dead on, I saw it!"

Ginny shook her head.

"No, it never touched me. I - I can't explain it either. It must have just moved away at the last minute."

Ginny looked down and noticed for the first time that Harry's right hand was clutched around the Snitch.

"You caught it!" she exclaimed. "Did we - "

Harry smiled more fully and nodded. "We won by ten points. Thanks to you," he said. "I thought of catching the Snitch and ending it in a draw. I might have done if Hufflepuff were about to score but I looked down and saw Susan with the Quaffle and you open and I thought, well," Harry smiled, "perhaps I should have a little faith."

Ginny flung her arms tightly around Harry who returned her embrace returned with even greater enthusiasm. After they moved out of the hug, Ginny noticed that Madame Hooch was down on the field in front of the celebrating Gryffindors, surrounded by a gang of protesting Hufflepuffs. From what Ginny could make out from the frantic conversation, it seemed that Susan had put the Quaffle through the hoop only a fraction of a second before Harry had closed his hand around the Snitch. The Hufflepuff Beater and captain Owen Cauldwell was vociferously making the case that the flapping wings of the snitch had touched Harry's glove before the Quaffle had completed its journey through the hoop and had Madame Hooch's Omnioculars in his hand as evidence. While not denying that the Omniocular replay showed exactly what Cauldwell claimed it did, Madame Hooch maintained that the touching of the wings to the glove did not constitute a catch. The argument went on for several more exchanges until Cauldwell, very red in the face, questioned Madame Hooch's grasp of standard international rules of the sport for which his father was a professional referee. Madame Hooch then snatched her Omnioculars back and made it very clear that any further comments from Cauldwell would result in a loss of house points for Hufflepuff. Pleased with the ensuing silence, she then called the game officially for Gryffindor one hundred and sixty points to one hundred and fifty. The crowd filed out of the stands and the two teams returned to their respective changing rooms, one in disbelieving victory and the other in impossible defeat.

* * *

"Cheers to our dear sister," declared Fred Weasley, clinking his Butterbeer glass loudly against Ginny's in the Gryffindor common room that evening, "for the best scoring assist this house has seen since the days of the great Angelina Johnson."

"And for putting up with a lot of ruddy awful teammates," George added, adding his own glass.

"Hey!" said Ron indignantly. "It could have been a lot worse! They would have been up by three hundred points if it weren't for some of my saves. I had no defensive support at all!"

"Sorry," said Ginny brightly.

"I didn't mean you," said Ron, looking slightly apologetic, but still determined to defend himself in front of his brothers. "Honestly that Berke character is a nightmare! If we had anybody else decent at all - and, Sloper!" Ron's jaw hardened. "If that bludger had hit you, Ginny, he would have - "

"Easy does it!" said Fred as George bewitched the Butterbeer keg to refill Ron's mug with a skill that surprised and impressed Ginny. "It didn't now, did it? And you won after all, right? We were only reviewing the pleasant highlights."

"Of course," added George, half-speaking into his mug. "The odd pointer might not go amiss."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "How is it you two can always get in here?"

"The prefect arrives at last!" said George, flashing a wink at Ginny who, to Ron's annoyance, giggled.

"We were beginning to think you'd forgotten," added Fred.

"You could launch a complaint, of course," said George.

"But you may find we have the support of a higher authority," finished Fred.

Ginny's eyes darted back and forth between her two brothers, realizing that she had forgotten how adept they were at finishing each other's sentences. She looked back at Ron and could see that he was still in the mood for a bit of a row. She also knew that Fred and George were enjoying goading him. Having seen this conversation develop before, Ginny looked around for an escape. It did not take her long to spot Harry who seemed to be struggling through a conversation with Marvin.

* * *

"A good Chaser always looks away from the hoop they're going to shoot at," Fred was saying. "You can't commit too early. If - "

"Shut up about Quidditch," hissed George, elbowing his twin in the ribs. "Ginny's gone now. We can get down to business."

"What?" said Ron.

"What?" said Fred. "Oh, right. Come on, little brother." He led Ron by the elbow into a vacant corner of the common room. "We came to give you the benefit of our noble experience."

"Your experience?" echoed Ron. "What - about Quidditch? Haven't you already - "

"No!" George groaned. "I'd forgotten how horribly thick he was," he said to Fred. "What can't we discuss in front of our wonderful sister?"

Ron's face went suddenly pale. "You mean - "

"Girls?" said Fred, shaking his head.

"Oh," said Ron, looking strangely more comfortable. "_That_. But what - "

"We heard you had a little in-house adventure at the ball," said George.

"Our compliments on choosing a partner with many fine attributes," said Fred, looking mischievously across the room at Amanda who was talking to Parvati.

Ron's ears went pink. "It wasn't much of an adventure. We didn't even snog or anything. Actually - "

George tutted and shook his head. "We can't have that, can we?"

"Absolutely not," agreed Fred. "And look at her now," he pointed across at Amanda, "deep in conversation with an astrological expert. That can only mean one thing, you know."

"Well, whatever it means," said Ron, looking down at his shoelaces, "I'm sure it's nothing about me. We didn't end up on the best of terms that night."

But both Fred and George were shaking their heads.

"You have much to learn about women," said Fred sagely. "She just wants to see how much you care."

"Well, I don't care very much," declared Ron. "She's just not right for me."

"How can she not be right for you?" asked George, eyeing Amanda himself. "What you need is a little encouragement. Something to give you a bit of confidence."

Ron looked up at Fred suspiciously. "You've been talking to Harry, haven't you?"

"Not a word, I swear."

"Though a bloke named Finnigan might have had a wag in our ear," George admitted.

"A valued customer," added Fred, looking pleased with himself.

Ron's eyes darted from Seamus to George. "Well, whatever you say it's not going to help," he declared, his jaw setting. "It was a stupid mistake and it's over. I'm not going to settle for anything less than a girl who likes me for who I am and she's not that."

"I entirely agree," declared Fred somberly.

"Only there's nothing wrong with having a bit of fun while you're waiting," added George, winking at Fred who responded in turn.

"Anyway," George went on before Ron could come up with another rejoinder. "Here comes the serious part: if you want to get a girl to like you, you've got to loosen things up a bit."

Fred sighed. "You're wasting your breath, George. He's too young to understand."

Ron went red again. "I am not!" he declared, then frowned. "Too young to understand what?"

Fred looked around again to make sure no one was listening, then leaned into whisper to George and Ron.

"You've got to get hold of a bit of liquid encouragement."

"What? Get her drunk?" said Ron.

"Nothing so crude," Fred replied. "Just add a bit of happiness to the evening. Anyway, it's _you_ who should drink the most, not her. That way you might be able to get up the nerve to talk to her which is always a good start."

"And it adds an excuse for your dance skills, too," said George.

"But, of course, you're in a school and you couldn't get any even if you are almost of age," said Fred. "And, of course, I almost forgot:"

"You're a _pre_fect," chorused the twins.

It was Ron's turn to smile this time. "That's what you think," he said in a low voice.

Fred and George stared at each other with expressions of mock amazement.

"Do my ears deceive me?" said Fred. "Did ickle Ronniekins tell us he knew where to get his hands on some real beverages? And I thought we knew all of the secrets in this school."

"Maybe," replied Ron, still smiling.

"And can you actually produce this magical substance?" asked George, "or is this all talk?"

The twins smiled deviously as Ron frowned again. He ignored their reaction, however, and struggled to recall the events of the first night of school that term. He and Harry had been talking late in the common room. About what? Old times, yes, that was it. And then... Ron frowned again. What had happened next? It seemed a bit silly that he couldn't quite remember. It wasn't very long ago after all. Yes, that was it, he realized. Harry had gone down to look for the bottle of fire whiskey himself. Why ever hadn't Ron gone with him? He still couldn't quite recall but whatever the reason he now remembered distinctly that Harry had returned with the bottle. And then he had wrapped it in his invisibility cloak and put it...

Ron grinned and looked back up at his brothers.

"If you wouldn't mind waiting for a moment, boys," he said, "I think I can produce the evidence you're looking for."

Still smiling at the surprised expressions on Fred and George's faces, Ron headed up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

* * *

"I'm sure that Quaffle must be jinxed, Harry," Marvin was saying urgently. "Every time I tried to pick it up it would fall out of my hands."

"Well, Marvin, I think maybe - "

"Didn't that happen with a Bludger your second year, Harry?" Marvin went on, not seeming to notice Harry's reply. "It was tampered with, wasn't it? I read about it in _Quidditch at Hogwarts: A History with Moving Pictures, 995-1995. _It mentions you a lot in there, Harry! You're really famous already!"

Ginny put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from giggling as Harry's face fell.

"Really, Marvin," he said, a little stiffly. "I don't think the Quaffle was jinxed. I think perhaps with a bit more practice - "

Marvin's eyes lit up. "You mean I'm still on the team!"

"Yes, if you just - "

"Thanks, Harry!" Marvin beamed and immediately ran over to share the news with a group of his fellow third years.

Harry sighed as Ginny walked up to take Marvin's place in front of him.

"Not that I have much choice," he mumbled.

Ginny shrugged. "Well, we managed anyway, just about."

Harry shook his head. "I don't know what happened with that Bludger," he said. "I can't help thinking _that _was tampered with."

Ginny frowned. "It seemed an innocent enough play. Jack said it broke his bat in two when he tried to hit it. If you count everything that's gone wrong with his bat the last two years, you'd have to think that every game was rigged."

"But what happened at the end? I've never seen a Bludger change course so suddenly by itself before."

"I don't know, either, Harry. It was like there was a shield in front of me or something."

"Maybe someone's looking out for you," said Harry thoughtfully.

"That would make for a nice change. Anyway," Ginny smiled and took hold of Harry's shoulders. "Good thing it did or you might have had a girlfriend whose nose was only fit for practicing potions."

Harry frowned. "Is Harmon all that awful to look at?"

Ginny sighed. "Never mind, Harry." She looked at his eyes and grew serious. "I wanted to tell you something: I remembered something else Firenze told me this morning."

"Go on."

"He said..." Ginny paused, trying to remember the exact words Firenze had used. "He said that humans were never meant to see. That they were meant to 'burn their lives out brightly' or something. I'm not sure I totally understand but - but if we are going to be killed in this war, and if we really can't do anything to stop it, or even if we can, I still think we should make the most of things instead of just worrying away what time we have left."

Harry did not respond for a moment and Ginny held his gaze, feeling a little anxious. Then he pulled her closely to his chest in a protective embrace and whispered softly into her ear:

"I love you so much, Ginny. I hope I can save you."

"I love you, too, Harry," she whispered back, "and you already have."

Harry held onto more tightly. They stayed together like that for a few moments longer. When Harry finally released her, she saw that his eyes were moist and she felt a lump in her own throat as well.

Before either Ginny or Harry could speak again, however, they became uncomfortably aware that the common room had gone silent around them. Feeling embarrassed, Ginny looked around, half-expecting to see the whole of Gryffindor house watching them.

But as she looked at her fellow housemates, Ginny saw that no one had taken any interest in her embrace with Harry. Instead, all eyes were on Ron who had made his way back down the staircase into the common room. He was surrounded by a crowd of Gryffindors, all of whom seemed to be staring at something he was holding in his hands. Even Fred and George seemed at a loss for words. Most of the other Gryffindors looked highly curious and very puzzled. Ron, for his part, seemed to have gone uncomfortably pale. Ginny felt her heartbeat quickening as he made her way slowly over to where she and Harry were standing. As he looked up from whatever he was holding and looked at her, Ginny saw an uncomfortable mixture of anger and fear in his eyes.

"Please explain to me what this is," he said evenly.

It was only when Ron reached out toward Ginny and handed her the object that the crowd parted enough for her to see what it was he had been holding. She drew a sharp intake of breath.

Looking down at her hands, Ginny saw a small square glass box. Inside the box, suspended in mid-air over a felt stand, were two identical gold rings. On a silver plate at the bottom of the stand were written the words:

TO HERMIONE, LOVE FOREVER, FROM RON


	6. Clues

**Chapter Six**

**Clues**

Ginny did not respond for a moment but continued to stare down at the box in disbelief. When she looked up, however, it was with an expression of defiant vindication.

"Ask yourself, Ron," she said.

"Brilliant, Gin!" exclaimed Fred.

"Worthy of the Weasley name," added George, studying the box closely. "I must admit you almost had me fooled there for a moment. They look just like real gold."

"They are!" spat Ginny fiercely.

There was a sudden quiet. Fred looked as if he was about to say something else but stopped himself when he saw the expression on his sister's face. Harry couldn't recall ever having seen the twins look so confused but truth be told, he felt just as baffled himself.

Ron and Ginny continued to look at each other as though they were sworn enemies. Ron finally snatched the box back from Ginny as though she had stolen it from him. When Harry's best friend and girlfriend finally spoke to each other, it was not in the bellowing shouts of a family row but in low hissing whispers that seem to bleed with unnatural enmity.

"Please tell me that this some kind of twisted joke of yours or I'm really going to think the Knight Bus is on its way to St. Mungo's."

"You think I put it there, don't you?"

"What else would you have me believe? You're the one who keeps going on about this Hermione person!"

"That's because she's real!" Ginny shouted. "And this proves it! You put this box there, Ron. You wanted to give to her. You loved her!"

But Ron shook his head and put his hands over his ears. "No, Ginny, no, no, no! It's not true! None of it!" A look of deep pity suddenly fell over Ron's face. "I don't think you know you put it there, Ginny, but you did. I don't think you know what you're doing or saying anymore." He shook his head. "Dumbledore's got a lot to answer for," he declared fervently. "Dumbledore's got a bloody awful lot to answer for."

Ron pushed roughly past his bewildered twin brothers and ran up the stairs to his dormitory, the box still clutched in his hands.

Ginny watched him go for a moment, panting heavily as though she'd just run a race. Then she burst into tears and ran up the staircase to her own dormitory.

"No, Ginny, wait!" cried Harry, suddenly spurred into action after staring in numb disbelief at the exchange between Ginny and Ron.

Ginny was already halfway up the stairs when she turned back to look at Harry.

"I c-c-can't g-go on like this, H-H-Harry," she said between sobs. "I just can't go on!"

Ginny turned around and walked without stopping to her room, walked inside, and slammed the door loudly behind her.

* * *

Ron lay on his bed, the curtains pulled down all around him, but his eyes still open and staring at the top of his four-poster. It hadn't been long after he'd run up that Neville and Seamus had come back into the room. He'd known it was them without looking: Neville had tried to talk to him but Seamus had silenced him in a quick whisper, saying that it was best to leave Ron alone. Then the two boys had quietly climbed into their beds and all had fallen silent in the room. Ron doubted they had fallen asleep, however: he knew that he wasn't going to. Part of him felt surprised that Fred and George hadn't tried to come up after him. Perhaps Dumbledore had found some way to stop them from going that far. Much as he didn't want to talk to them right now, this didn't make Ron feel much better. It only made him even more certain that the only person who could have planted the rings was Ginny.

Ron was not sure how much time had passed before the door opened again and he heard the familiar footfall of his fourth roommate. He knew before he heard Harry's long sigh that he had done everything in his power to rouse Ginny from her room. He also knew that he had not succeeded. It didn't give Ron much satisfaction to realize that he still knew his sister far better than her boyfriend.

Ron had lain for so long with only his own thoughts for company that it seemed strange to hear his name called. But he knew that Harry wouldn't think it best to leave him alone.

"Ron?"

Ron paused for a moment, wondering whether he should respond, then whispered:

"I'm awake, Harry."

There was another moment's pause.

"I'm sorry," said Ron and Harry at the same time.

"I'm sorry Ginny shouted at you like that," Harry went on, after another moment of silence. "Fred told me what it was you showed her. I – I don't know what to say, mate."

"You don't have to apologize for my sister, Harry," said Ron, sounding a little resentful. "I just wish I knew what was wrong with her."

"I do, too, Ron, but I don't think it was her who put it there."

"I don't think she remembers, Harry, like she doesn't remember a lot of things now. But I don't think it could have happened any other way. Do you, honestly?"

"I don't know, Ron. A lot of things have changed in the last two months."

Ron sighed. "I – I – look, Harry, I don't think we're going to get anywhere talking about this tonight. I'm sorry I shouted at her, too, and I'll tell her that tomorrow."

"All right, mate. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm all right, Harry. And Ginny will be better in the morning. Trust me, I know her," Ron added meaningfully. "Good night."

"I know, Ron. Good night."

But still neither of the two best friends slept. Ron lay on his bed for what must have been hours listening to Harry toss and turn. He did not say anything as Harry got to his feet again, put on his slippers, and walked back down into the common room.

As soon as Ron had heard the door click shut, he took his wand from behind his pillow and charmed its tip to cast the faintest of lights. He moved the box of wizard rings that he had placed on top of his covers closer to his face and watched as the tiny light reflected off the surface of the rings. He made no move to brush away the long silent tears that rolled slowly down his cheeks.

* * *

The morning sky was still an indigo blue as Ginny walked down into the common room and found Harry sleeping on the sofa. She knew he had come down to wait for her. He'd wanted to be here the moment she arose and he would be very upset if he'd known he would fall asleep waiting. Part of her wanted to rouse him, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to do it. There was something unusually calm about the way that he slept.

Ginny leaned over Harry's face so that a few loose strands of her hair touched his forehand, sufficient to comfort but not enough to wake him.

"I wish I didn't have to make you worry," she whispered softly. "You deserve much better. Part of his darkness touched me once, more than I've ever told you, more than I've ever told anyone. I know you have a fate with him but so do I. I have to stop him and I have to stop anyone who stands with him." She leaned down and gently kissed Harry's scar. "I'll be back soon," she said, "and I'll come back with answers, I promise."

Ginny stood up, took one last look at Harry, and then walked out of the portrait hole, resolved to put into action the plan that would give her the answers she needed, the one she had thought through the whole of her sleepless night.

* * *

Draco Malfoy ignored the voices in his head that hissed at him to stay silent as he marched his way into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. A great many things were not going the way that he had planned and he was angry, bothered, and anxious. He should have had everything well under control by now but the fact remained that he did not.

"You would do well as a town crier, Mr. Malfoy, or perhaps a rooster," remarked Janus calmly, looking as though he had been sitting behind the desk in his office all night. "I understand you've already mastered the ferret."

Malfoy did not answer. He swaggered into the chair in front of Janus' desk and crossed one leg over the other.

"What is it that you could possibly have to see me about?" he drawled. "And at this hour?"

"I thought it would be obvious even to you, Mr. Malfoy, that at this hour, we stand far less likelihood of being seen and heard."

"You might close the office door then."

"Hardly necessary. I have placed a silencing charm around the entire classroom including this office, fortunate considering the ostentatious manner in which you entered."

"Just tell me why you have brought me here," said Malfoy impatiently.

Janus walked up from behind his desk and strode with deliberate slowness over to a small table in the corner of the office. He took out his wand and tapped it on the table three times. The table grew larger and expanded into a chest of drawers. He tapped his wand on the bottom drawer and it opened to reveal a small white sack tied at the top with a string. Janus used his wand to levitate the sack over to the desk in front of Malfoy, then let it drop with a loud crash. The side of the bag split and several gold coins rolled out onto the desk.

"Money?" cried Malfoy, his face reddening in rage. "You think you can bribe me?"

"One thousand galleons," said Janus, appearing not to have heard Malfoy's rhetorical question. "And there's much more where this came from. I have ten such bags in my possession and I could bring you much more. I'm sure your father would not have hesitated."

Malfoy flung the bag to the floor with one angry swipe causing the galleons to spill and roll around at his feet.

"My father understood nothing!" he spat. "He dressed up in a childish costume, played with a bit of dark magic, but it was all about worldly power and position to him! If you understand anything of my aims, you must know that all of the money in Gringotts cannot buy me what I seek!"

"Ah, but that's the problem, isn't it?" said Janus, looking slightly pleased with himself. "What you seek is not for anyone to possess."

Malfoy leaned in closer to Janus, his face still very red.

"You're wrong," he insisted.

Janus leaned closer in turn so that his eyes were only inches away from Malfoy's, but still as unreadable as ever. "I don't know what your Death Eater friends have told you but they are very much mistaken. Think of it, Mr. Malfoy: you are fully aware of my powers, I have no doubt of that. The Death Eaters rely completely on you and what you are able to carry out at this school. If you refuse to serve them, their plans will be at an end. They no longer have the means or resources to take revenge on you. If ten thousand galleons are not enough, I can get you much more. I can get you all of the gold in Gringotts. I can make every wizard and witch in this world your penniless slave. It's what any self-respecting Slytherin would desire."

Malfoy smiled. "You seem to understand so much about us. I take it Slytherin was your house, too?"

Janus raised his eyebrows very slightly. "Don't you already know that, Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy's smile faded abruptly.

"What does it matter who you are?" he demanded, his frown now genuine. "I know what you are and what you can do! And I wonder what you could possibly want from me in exchange for your generosity?"

"That's quite simple," replied Janus, sitting back down. "I want you to stop what you are doing, leave the Death Eaters, and work for me instead."

Malfoy smiled. "I see now that you must have been a Hufflepuff. Your loyalty to Dumbledore extends far beyond any possible advantage to yourself." He leaned forward again. "Think of it, professor, you could join me – join us – instead. When we are successful, the life you once enjoyed will be returned to you. Surely nothing Dumbledore could offer you would compare?"

Janus shook his head slowly. For a moment, Malfoy swore he could see a flicker of spite in his eyes but it vanished quickly.

"If you believe that I work for Dumbledore, you are very much mistaken," Janus declared. "If anything, it is the other way around. I, unlike you, know full well that if your plans are successful, even my present existence will seem very pleasant indeed. And I could offer you far greater range for your true talents." Janus gestured to the bag of galleons significantly.

Malfoy shook his head.

"You may understand what a Slytherin wants but you have no appreciation for the appetite of a Death Eater."

Malfoy felt his anger rise again but a voice inside his head quickly beckoned him to restrain himself. Here was a valuable opportunity. Janus obviously had formidable powers, powers that could be used to Malfoy's advantage. He could pretend to cooperate, make his demands, and Janus wouldn't know he was betrayed until it was far too late.

"Then again," Malfoy said, letting his words hang in the air and studying Janus carefully, pleased to see that he was unable to disguise a slight hunger for his positive response. "Perhaps I will consider your offer."

Malfoy casually took a single galleon from Janus' desk between his fingers before putting it into the pocket of his robes. "We will speak again," he said dismissively, and then turned on his heel to walk out of the office, swinging the door shut loudly after him.

It did not take Malfoy longer than the time it took to walk out into Janus' classroom to allow himself the luxury of a broad smile. Things were far better than they had seemed earlier in the morning. It was all he could do to stop himself from whistling an arrogantly pleasant tune.

So engrossed was Malfoy in his own cleverness that he did not look back to see that pinned to the wall behind the door he had just closed shut, a look of horror on her face, was Ginny Weasley.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore tried to recall whether it was angels or demons that had long red hair. Seeing Ginny Weasley standing in front of the entrance to his office silhouetted against the large window at the end of the corridor, he realized she could have been either. She had certainly seemed that way in his thoughts for some time.

Sitting in his office in less urgent times, Dumbledore had often argued with his late colleague Phineas Nigellus that instructing and managing adolescent witches and wizards was a far better way to protect the wizarding world from its true evils than taking up any of the lofty offices in the Ministry of Magic. Dumbledore had long understood that it was only the adolescent who stood between the child who believes the lie and the adult who tries to hide it. More than this, an adolescent was like a magical creature who held up a mirror which could always show an adult their real face, however beautiful or ugly. For much of his long career at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had reveled in the simple wisdom this had provided him. Now, however, seeing Ginny standing waiting for him and watching his approach, Dumbledore felt the same desperate, nauseous fear that had gripped him ever since the day his new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had first walked into his office earlier that term. For the first time that Dumbledore could remember, he found that he did not want to look too closely into the mirror Ginny was about to hold up for him, for he was very frightened indeed as to what he might see there.

To Ginny's credit, she said nothing to Dumbledore until he was within whispering distance of her. He did not want to think what she was doing walking around the school corridors so early in the morning and briefly considered admonishing her. He quickly realized, however, that this would constitute a further assault on her dignity which he had already, through little choice of his own, severely offended. And the only way one could ever hope to teach anything to a teenage wizard or witch was to respect their dignity. Dumbledore hoped, nonetheless, as he tried to muster a steady and neutral tone when asking her what she wanted, that Ginny only desired to speak to him about some comparatively mundane school matter. She was, after all, a student. Could she not come to see the headmaster? This vain hope was quickly dashed, however, when Ginny leaned close to him and said in an urgent whisper:

"I know you didn't want me to come and see you, sir, but there's something I've got to tell you."

Dumbledore briefly considered showing Ginny into his office. It was, after all, the only place left in the school where he was fairly certain that he wasn't being watched. He quickly decided, however, that this would only make things look far more suspicious. His only hope was to continue to feign ignorance.

"And what is that, Ginny?" he managed to reply.

Dumbledore could see from the widening look in Ginny's eyes that he had not delivered his question in a very reassuring fashion. There was an unnerving quiver that had found its way into his voice now. He didn't want to think what Ginny saw in his eyes. She seemed able to stare straight through them into his mind just as her mother had many years before.

Ginny dropped into an even lower whisper. "It's about Professor Janus. I just overheard him talking to Malfoy. He tried to bribe him to leave the Death Eaters. He had loads of galleons in his office; I think he might have stolen them. He said that he wanted Malfoy to come and work for him. He said that he didn't work for you at all, sir, rather that it was the other way around."

Dumbledore felt uncomfortable beads of sweat begin to prickle and form all over his body at Ginny's words. He felt seized with a sudden panic, a panic he had spent a lifetime training never to rise to the surface of his thoughts, but which now seemed uncomfortably familiar. Try as he might, he could not stem the fear that things were spiraling completely out of his control. He suddenly felt his hand reach up and desperately seize Ginny's wrist. She gasped in surprise.

"Ginny, don't come and tell me these things anymore, please!" he hissed at her in a broken, raspy whisper. "We can't be seen together talking like this. He has eyes everywhere!"

Ginny's eyes widened. "Professor Janus – "

Dumbledore tightened his grip. "Listen to me, Ginny. You don't understand what's going on. If – "

Ginny yanked her wrist away from Dumbledore, her cheeks flushed in righteous anger.

"Maybe if you told us what was going on, I would understand better!" she said, her voice raised far too loudly for Dumbledore's liking. "Maybe if you trusted us instead of – "

"This is not about trust, Ginny! And it is not about you or Harry. It is something far bigger and far worse. And if I tell you, both of us will be in tremendous danger! Do you understand?"

Ginny's anger was replaced by uncertainty again. "If he's controlling you, sir, you've got to tell us, or tell somebody!" she said urgently. "You can't let him – "

Dumbledore made no move to wipe back the tears of desperation and frustration that welled in his eyes and began to roll down his cheeks. Ginny stopped speaking and stared back at him in shock.

"For Merlin's sake, Ginny, just leave!" he croaked, pointing a shaking finger down the corridor. "Believe in yourself. Believe in Harry. But don't come to talk to me again; if you do, it could be the end for all of us! Smartie Squash!"

The gargoyle sprang to life and Dumbledore swiftly moved onto the ascending stairs up to his office. He turned to look back at Ginny, his eyes pleading at her not to follow him. At last, as the staircase continued to move up and out of sight, he took one last look back to see that she had gone.

* * *

Harry stared across at Ginny, his spoon suspended halfway to his mouth. He was not quite sure if he should be happy that she had recovered so quickly from the events of the night before, annoyed that he had slept through the significant events of the morning, or simply terrified by the story she had told him. His eyes moved back and forth around the hall for the umpteenth time to make sure no one listening, most particularly Malfoy, who seemed suspiciously absent from the Slytherin table. He also found himself glad that Ron was still asleep in their room. He didn't think his best friend could have stomached this tale on top of everything else that had happened.

"But what were you doing in Janus' room in the first place?" he finally managed to ask.

"Well," replied Ginny, still in an excited state, "I thought of going to Dumbledore first. I didn't care what he'd told us. Things had gone too far; I wanted the truth. I was on the way to his office when I realized that it was just no good. He didn't really have the answers. He isn't the one at the heart of the mystery; Janus is. I knew that he was the one I had to confront. I went into his room. I could hear him in his office moving around some papers. I went to walk up the stairs but then I heard the sound of heavy footsteps behind me so I ducked back behind the office door."

The milk and wizard puffs fell away from Harry's spoon and back into his bowl.

"But Ginny!" he protested. "That was extremely dangerous! What if Janus had tried to hurt you or," he paused and swallowed, "made you disappear."

"I'm not going to disappear, Harry."

"You don't know that! If what you've been telling us is true, people have been disappearing all the time and for all we know, he's the one who's doing it! Why couldn't you have woken me up? I believe you, Ginny, even though some of the things you say are not that easy to believe. I thought we were in this together!"

Ginny lowered her head and frowned, her cheeks turning red. She didn't respond for a moment, then reached her hand out across the table. Harry gently stretched his own hand across and laced his fingers into hers.

"I – I'm sorry, Harry," she said, looking up and showing him her large chocolate eyes. "I just got headstrong. I – I – it won't happen again."

Harry paused for a moment, then nodded.

"Did Janus see you?" he asked, after a moment's pause, not taking his hand away from Ginny's.

Ginny bit her lip but then shook her head. "No, I'm sure he didn't."

Harry sighed. "All right. So then you went to see Dumbledore?"

"I knew I had to tell him what I'd heard."

"And he said you'd be in danger if you told him?"

"He was terrified, Harry," said Ginny quietly. "I've never seen him look that way before. His eyes were full of fear. I don't think he's in control of anything at all. I don't think he has been ever since Janus arrived."

Harry nodded. There was another long pause.

"What do you think we should do now then?" he asked, his hand still holding Ginny's.

"Well, I don't think we should sit back on our arses and do nothing. I don't think we can. If Dumbledore can't stop Janus, if he can't stop Voldemort, then it's up to us. No one else even knows the Muggle borns are missing, or no one else believes it." Ginny squeezed Harry's hand a little more tightly. "There's Dobby, of course, but I haven't seen him in months. You still remember Dobby, don't you?" she asked tentatively.

Harry nodded.

"So he hasn't disappeared," he said. "But then where is he?"

"I don't know but we can't go around hoping he'll come back. You're right. We've got to something ourselves, though I suppose we'd better stay clear of Dumbledore."

"Agreed. You have a lesson with Janus this morning, right?"

"In fifteen minutes."

"I'll walk you there."

Ginny took her hand back and got to her feet, followed closely by Harry. They walked toward the edge of the table and handed their plates to one of the house elves.

"We've got to find out what Janus is up to and you're in the best position to do that," Ginny went on, taking Harry's hand in hers again as they walked out of the door of the Great Hall.

"I can't very well go up and ask him," Harry protested, when they were out of earshot of the students milling around the entrance to the hall.

"I know that, Harry, but you've got to – " Ginny broke off and sighed, then reached up and kissed Harry on the cheek. "I can't believe the sorting hat ever considered putting you in Slytherin."

Harry grinned in spite of himself, then nodded his understanding. He and Ginny continued to walk hand in hand up the stairs toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. They didn't say much to each other for the rest of the way but as they reached the entrance to the classroom, Ginny reached up and gave Harry a quick hug.

"Be careful," she said. "Don't trust him."

Harry nodded.

"You be careful, too. And, Ginny, see if you can find Ron. I'm sure he can't still be sleeping."

Ginny stiffened. "Only if he apologizes to me."

Harry sighed. "You know he's not going to do that, not yet, anyway. But he's your brother and he's my best friend and we need him on our side. Just come to some temporary peace, please."

Ginny hesitated, then nodded. Harry looked as if he was about to say something else but Ginny waved him in the direction of the classroom. She watched him go for a moment, then turned to walk back in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. The wizarding world may have been falling apart around them but she had Potions in two hours and she hadn't even started on her essay. She let out a long yawn at the very thought, suddenly remembering that she hadn't slept all night. She walked a short way down the corridor, trying to organize her thoughts to the assignment, but she kept stopping and looking back at the closed door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, as if in doing so, she could somehow protect Harry. It was only when she had reached the very end of the corridor and turned back to look one last time that she noticed something very odd indeed.

Nearly Headless Nick, unmistakable from behind with his high-collared cloak and wobbling head, had floated out of the wall next to her and was gliding up the corridor she had just left. When he passed the entrance to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, however, he seemed to lose shape altogether. It was as if he had blown by an enormous gust of wind into a formless white cloud. The cloud moved very quickly along the point where the ceiling and the wall met. Ginny had no sooner begun to cry out in alarm when the cloud reformed itself just past the classroom door into the familiar form of the Gryffindor ghost.

Ginny continued to stare at Nick, rubbing her eyes, and trying to convince herself that what she had just seen was a product of her sleep-deprived imagination. The next moment she resolved that she'd rather end up a fool than miss something important and so she ran quickly after Nick, calling his name.

Nearly Headless Nick did not respond at first. He seemed to be muttering something to himself, his head wobbling erratically from side to side. Ginny drew up alongside him, continuing to say his name. At last, Nick seemed to notice and turned around to face her. He shook his head in an extremely grotesque manner and put his finger to his lips. Ginny obeyed his request for silence but continued to follow after him as he glided around the turn in the corridor, hoping that he would not try to disappear behind one of the walls. Finally, when they had reached the foot of the little used stairway leading up to the east watchtower, Nick swiveled his body around to face Ginny and spoke:

"Forgive me for startling you. I should have known from several generations of experience that you Weasleys are both curious and excitable."

"Nick, what did you do back there in the corridor? It was as though you – "

"I – " Nick paused and leaned in closer to Ginny as though imparting a very sensitive secret, "I shimmered."

"You what?"

Nick sighed, obviously pained to have repeat the word again. "I shimmered," he repeated, very quietly, as though it was a shameful act.

"But what does that mean?"

"It means that I altered my form to move as far and as quickly as possible away from the monstrous abomination that has settled itself in that classroom."

"You mean – you mean Professor Janus?"

"Professor Janus!" Nick scoffed. "As if that were its' real name."

"But – but what is his – I mean its – name?"

"It does not have a name. It should not, in any case. It once had a name, yes, oh, but," Nick put his arm over his forehead melodramatically, "it pains me to consider that the creature in there bears any relationship to – no! Say no more!"

"But, Sir Nicholas, it's very important that we know! We're trying to find out as much about Professor Janus as we can. He's the only one who can help us get everyone's memories and all the people that have gone missing back!"

But Nick shook his head. "I cannot speak of it. I shall only tell you, young Ginny, that it is a foully unnatural creature, a creature that was never meant to be. Oh, to be living in the castle in the presence of such a thing! I have haunted this school for four hundred years but now I can see that I shall have to consider moving. If word of this gets any further, there will never be the slightest hope of my joining the Headless Hunt, this year or any other! Now, good day to you!"

"But, Sir Nicholas, wait, I have a lot of questions to ask you! Do you remember the Muggle – "

But Nick had already vanished.

* * *

_"Expelliarmus! Stupefy!"_

Harry stood up from the floor panting as the last of the bogus Death Eaters fell. He turned around to look up at Professor Janus and found the same eager, almost hungry look in his eyes that Harry had seen since the first day of their lessons. If Janus had felt any ambivalence from his shady dealings with Draco Malfoy earlier that morning, it did not show on his face.

"Very good, Harry," he said. "Very good, indeed. These duels have become easy work for you. I daresay I would count myself lucky to dispose of three Death Eaters single-handedly time and time again."

Harry did not respond. He briefly kept his wand out in front of him to show Janus that he was ready for anything else the Defense master might throw his way.

"You can put your wand away, Harry," said Janus, without losing his smile. "What I have to teach you next can be done without a wand if you can do it right, and I have every confidence that you can."

Harry reluctantly replaced his wand into his robes but continued to watch Janus closely.

"I take it you remember, Harry," said Janus, "the duel between Professor Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort in the original room last year?"

Harry started. "I – I – yes, of course, sir, but," he paused, gathering himself together and trying to remember to whom he was talking, "but how did you know about that, sir?"

"Professor Dumbledore told me," he replied simply.

Harry paused for a moment. He had almost managed to block out of his thoughts the mind-boggling duel between the two great wizards, a duel in which Dumbledore and Voldemort had flown through the air and transfigured themselves into a number of wonderful and horrible magical creatures Harry had never known existed. He had never spoken about it to anyone – not even Ron who had lain unconscious under a pile of rubble during the whole exchange. He was fairly sure that Ginny, the only other person in the room who had witnessed the duel, had not said anything either. The notion that Dumbledore would have casually described his secret and unregistered powers to Janus seemed extremely suspicious. Harry reminded himself to say nothing more about the duel until he was certain what it was that Janus did and didn't know. But the conversation did not continue much further before it became apparent that Janus knew a great deal.

"It must have come as a bit of a shock seeing them glide around in the air like that, changing into all manner of strange beasts. I remember the first time I saw it done."

"And when was that, sir?" Harry asked pointedly.

"Oh, a long time ago, Harry," was the non-committal response.

"S – so you have those powers, too?"

Janus frowned for a moment, then shook his head. "Polyanimagi are extremely rare, Harry. Professor Dumbledore developed the skill from a young age, and Voldemort managed to cultivate similar powers through the many transformations he undertook between his time at Hogwarts as Tom Riddle and his return to the wizarding world as the Dark Lord. No, I cannot teach you to transfigure yourself as freely as Dumbledore and Voldemort, but I do believe I can teach you their flying skills, even though they are beyond my own abilities. Professor Nevins taught you the Levitatus Charm, I believe?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, this is not unlike that. But you won't find your wand useful. It's something that rather comes to you. Not every wizard can do it but you have already shown exceptional abilities."

"What do I do?"

Janus took a step toward Harry, to which he automatically retreated. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher smiled benignly.

"First, you have to trust me, Harry."

Harry felt like laughing out loud. How was he supposed to trust a man who only a few hours earlier had been offering Malfoy all the gold in the wizarding world? Yet even as Harry's suspicions of Janus boiled inside him, so did another powerful emotion: he was curious, no, not just curious, eager. He was eager to know how Dumbledore and Voldemort had defied gravity so skillfully. He also knew that if he was to ever defeat Voldemort he would have to possess equally powerful magical abilities and, at present, he was very far behind.

"All right," said Harry slowly, still trying to remember Ginny's warning to him.

"Good, now, put away your wand and close your eyes."

Harry looked back at Janus suspiciously.

"You told me you would trust me, Harry," said Janus calmly. "Now do as I say."

Harry very slowly placed his wand back into the pocket of his robes and closed his eyes. He still kept his hand hear his pocket, however, in case Janus tried to trick him. He tried to tell himself that he would be quick enough to react but a voice in his head that sounded like Ginny's told him that what he was doing was insanely dangerous after everything he already knew about Janus.

"The point of closing your eyes is to relax and focus your thoughts, Harry," said Janus, in a calm, almost soothing voice.

No longer thinking much about it, Harry did feel strangely relaxed. Ginny's voice was forgotten as he took his hand away from his pocket.

"Excellent," said Janus. "Now, Harry, as I said, you won't need your wand for this exercise but I will take mine out. As this is your first attempt, you might need a little help from me."

Harry flinched instinctively but did not open his eyes again.

"There's no cause for concern, Harry," Janus went on. "I'll tell you exactly what I'm going to do. First, I want you to empty all thoughts from your mind. I just want you to think about flying, Harry. Visualize yourself on a broom if it helps. But then think about that broom vanishing under your feet. Don't think of yourself falling, Harry. Imagine yourself continuing to fly in the sky. All right?"

Harry nodded.

"Good." Janus flicked his wand once and Harry heard the desks and chairs nearest him moving away to create an empty space. "Now I'm going to count to three, Harry. Then I'm going to cast the Levitatus Charm on you. Once you're in the air, I want you to keep thinking about flying without that broomstick. Don't think about anything else. Just try to keep yourself up in the air for as long as you can."

Harry nodded again.

"Now, one, two, three: _Levitatus_."

Harry tried to keep his eyes closed and his concentration fixed on his broomstick-less flight, but as soon as he was up in the air, he found his attention taken completely away. It wasn't very far from floor to ceiling and so Harry quickly found himself falling. He tried to remember how Nevins had trained him to control his fall but it had been a long time since he had practiced the charm. He then realized he was supposed to try and stay in the air instead of controlling his fall but by this point, his attention was lost altogether. Harry was still in indecision when he crashed awkwardly to the floor.

"Oh, dear."

Janus glided over quickly. He offered his hand to Harry and pulled him to his feet.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You lost concentration."

"I'm fine," said Harry, fighting back a sharp stinging sensation that cut across his shoulder blade and the top of his legs. "No broken bones at least. Shall we have another go then?"

"If you've recovered," said Janus cautiously.

Harry didn't answer. He closed his eyes again. He tried to concentrate on his broomstick-less flight again but the pain in his legs and the rush of adrenalin now surging through his body from his flight and fall made it difficult.

"Let yourself slow down, Harry," said Janus, seeming to read his thoughts. "Take a deep breath and forget about everything but the flight. I will wait until you are ready."

Something in Janus' voice seemed to generate in Harry an unexamined trust for his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Whatever Janus had said and done to this point, Harry believed that he would not strike him with the charm until Harry was ready. Gradually, Harry allowed his breathing to slow and the stinging pain to subside. He imagined himself flying again on his Firebolt far above the Quidditch pitch, then gliding effortlessly through the air by himself. When this last image had become fixed again in his mind, Harry slowly nodded to Janus, who counted to three and shot him back up toward the ceiling.

This time Harry was much better prepared. He reached the arc of his flight and slowly began to fall again. But he did not panic even as he began to accelerate quickly downward. Instead, he concentrated on the vision of his broomstick-less flight. Just as he was about to hit the floor, Harry found himself rising again as if an invisible hand had pushed him up. He swooped up and down erratically within the short space from floor to ceiling. Then, without even thinking about it but somehow knowing just what to do, Harry reached out his right hand and moved in position in the air. He swooped up and down again as he reached the wall and curved sharply in a circle to return to the other side. He could hear Janus applauding and felt a cry of exhilaration fly out from his own lungs. He was flying, just like Voldemort and Dumbledore had. He was flying with nothing beneath him.

But Harry's feeling of glee proved short-lived: he tried to turn a second time near the center of the room and draw a figure-eight but he suddenly lost control. He crashed quickly to the floor like a bird that had just lost the use of a wing. At the last moment, he managed to break into a roll as Professor Nevins had taught him but his ankle got caught between the legs of two tables.

Janus rushed over again, somewhat less elegantly this time.

"I should have cleared the whole room, really," he said apologetically. "I'm afraid I didn't think you'd get this far. Well done, Harry," he declared, enthusiasm lighting up his boyish features. "You've done something that few adult wizards and witches have ever achieved. Now let's see if we can do something about that ankle."

Janus used magic to move the desks trapping Harry away. Harry quickly got to his feet but winced as his ankle gave way. He hobbled awkwardly over to a nearby chair.

"Don't try to get up so quickly now," warned Janus.

"It's only twisted," said Harry, still wincing. "I can fly for longer. I know I can."

"And you will, Harry, but I think it's best that we stop for today. We're nearly at the end of our time in any case."

"No!" protested Harry, feeling his face grow hot. "If we wait until next time, I'll have to start all over again. My ankle is fine. If you'll just – "

"No, Harry," said Janus, with a firmness that surprised Harry. "That is enough for today. There is no 'starting over.' The time between our two lessons will give you the chance to reflect – "

"I don't need to reflect! I just need to do it! I know I can do it! Professor Nevins – "

Harry suddenly broke off.

There was a moment of silence during which a curious, knowing smile formed on Janus' face.

"Ah, yes, dear Professor Nevins," he finally said. "He would have let you go on, wouldn't he?"

"Well…yes," said Harry, trying not to feel sorry for Janus. "He would have, sir, frankly speaking."

"I believe you are right, Harry," said Janus, not losing his smile. "I daresay Professor Nevins was a little bit afraid of you."

Harry frowned. "Afraid of me? I shouldn't think so. He – "

But Janus went on, ignoring the interruption.

"He was always afraid of anyone who seemed so brave that they were determined to punish themselves to get something right. He felt he didn't understand that sort of bravery because he was – and still is, as I understand it – obsessed with the notion that he is a coward. He is wrong, by the way," he added, almost as an afterthought. "But I am not like Professor Nevins, Harry. I am like you. And I understand exactly what it is you are feeling."

"Do you?" asked Harry, finding himself doubting this very much.

"Yes," replied Janus, without a hint of hesitation. "You want revenge, don't you, Harry? Revenge against Voldemort. It's like a hunger inside you that won't go away. You also want to exonerate yourself. You blame yourself for the death of your parents, not to mention allowing Voldemort to rise again. So you don't want to think at all; you just want to act. You're afraid that if you stop and think, you'll start to doubt yourself, and then you won't be able to stop him. You just want to allow your anger to fill you up and give you some kind of super-human strength that you will use to defeat him. How am I doing so far?"

"I'm not afraid of Voldemort!" retorted Harry angrily.

"No, Harry. You are afraid of yourself."

There was a long silence. Harry started to think about what Janus had just said to him but found that his mind had seemed to go numb. And then, as if switching a channel on Uncle Vernon's television set, he suddenly remembered again what he and Ginny had resolved to do before this lesson began.

"You know Professor Nevins, then?"

Janus looked slightly disappointed, but stroked his beard slowly and replied:

"Yes, Harry, he was once a sort of – mentor of mine once as well."

"And did you know my parents as well?" asked Harry, feeling his suspicions of Janus return. "Or do you just know the stories?"

Janus seemed to hesitate. Harry could sense the mask starting to fall again.

"I – I did know your parents, Harry. We fought together in the first war."

"Funny," said Harry, frowning at Janus. "No one from the first war seems to remember you."

"Really?" said Janus, smiling again. "Perhaps memory isn't what it used to be."

Before Harry could respond, Janus clapped his hands together loudly.

"Come on, then, on your feet! If your ankle's only twisted as you say, you should be able to walk by now and I can spare you a visit to Madam Pomfrey."

Harry was not fooled. He knew that Janus was playing on his desire to prove himself to avoid Harry's probing of his past. But he also knew that he was unlikely to get any further with his questions that day. Feeling annoyed at himself for trusting Janus as much as he had that morning, Harry got to his feet, winced and hobbled a few steps, but then made his way toward the exit. Once he had made his way out into the corridor and closed the door behind him, he was surprised to find himself face to face with Ginny and Ron.

"You're hurt!" said Ginny as he limped another step toward them.

"I'll be all right," Harry replied dismissively. He looked between the two of them, hoping they had made up, but their expressions told him right away that their alliance was a temporary necessity.

"Something else has happened, hasn't it?"

It was Ron who spoke up.

"We've just seen Hagrid. Grawp and Fump are gone."

* * *

Hagrid handed Ginny's teacup to her with a shaking hand, barely managing to keep large globs of teardrops out of the saucer. She, Harry, and Ron now sat in Hagrid's hut, none of them particularly sure what to say. The only sound that could be heard besides Hagrid's sobbing was Fang, who howled loudly in the background.

Hagrid moved back to pour another cup of tea for Harry. This time, he looked like he was having trouble keeping cup and saucer together.

Harry put up a restraining hand.

"Hagrid, I don't really need any tea."

Hagrid grudgingly put the cup and saucer down and sat down hard on his customary stool which creaked under the weight. He took out a handkerchief as large as a small T-shirt from beneath his coat and blew his nose loudly, but still said nothing.

"Are you sure you've looked everywhere, Hagrid?" asked Ginny.

Hagrid nodded glumly.

"Everywhere I can. Wen' out fer miles. Couldn' find 'em anywhere. Finally went an' found Professor Dumbledore. Should've sacked me feh hidin' 'em in the forest in the first place but he didn' say a thing. Great man, Dumbledore. Then he sent out a whole flock o' them search owls he keeps up the owl'ry. Still out there some of 'em, but they haven' found anythin'. Could be miles away o' course, giants don' 'ave a small step."

"Maybe they just went for a walk," suggested Ron. "Perhaps they wanted some privacy. They are a couple, right?" he ended feebly, as Ginny shook her head in his direction.

"I reckon they'd be back by now if that's all they was doin.'"

"How long have they been gone, Hagrid?" asked Harry.

"I don' know fer sure. Wen' out yesterday afternoon after the Quidditch was over. Good score there, Ginny." He smiled weakly. "Always do once a day, make sure they're all right. Anyhow, they were gone, then, both o' them. Stayed up all night but they never came – "

Hagrid broke off and launched into a fresh round of tears to which Fang added his own dissonant chorus.

Ginny looked briefly back toward Ron and Harry and saw that they still seemed to be trying to think of something encouraging to say. Lacking any useful words of her own, she walked over to Hagrid's stool and tried to put her arms around the gameskeeper but she could barely reach around both his shoulders at full stretch. She settled for holding onto his left arm in what she hoped was a reassuring manner.

"Did you see any sign of them leaving?" she asked.

"Nothin!'" boomed Hagrid, making her jump back. "No sign at all! No trees torn down, no footsteps. How can two giants not leave any footsteps? I couldn' even make out the patches o' earth where they sleep. First, I thought I must've be lookin' in the wrong part of the forest, but I kept retracing me steps and came back to the same place. It was like they'd never been 'ere at all!"

"Maybe they used magic?" said Ron, oblivious to the very curious expressions that began to slowly dawn on the faces of his best friend and sister.

"They can' use magic."

"Maybe someone else did then?" suggested Ron.

"But who and why?" demanded Hagrid.

"Hagrid," said Ginny thoughtfully. "Did you ask Firenze for help? I know he's not exactly on the best of terms with the other Centaurs but surely in an emergency – "

Hagrid looked blank. "Come again?" he said, cocking an ear in Ginny's direction.

It was Ron's turn to stare at Ginny.

"Which imaginary friend is this, then?" he asked evenly.

Ginny looked across at Harry who shook his head.

"Nothing," said Ginny quickly.

There was another moment of silence before Hagrid let out a heavy sigh and got to his feet.

"No use mopin', I suppose. Grawp was never 'appy 'ere. Thought Fump had changed that but still. Giants are best on their own," he said, sounding very unconvinced. "Never did do well in groups or chained to one place."

"What are you going to do now then, Hagrid?" asked Harry.

"Well, those carniv'rous giant daffodils near the front of the school are goin' to keep on growin' out o' their patch whether Grawp and Fump come back or not. And, as Ginny knows, the sixth years 'll be wantin' their lesson this afternoon, so – "

"Hagrid, you can't teach class in this state!" protested Ginny.

"I can," said Hagrid, with a burst of conviction. "An' I reckon I will, too. Now on with yeh all. I'll be all right and so will Grawp and Fump, don' yeh worry now. Shut up, Fang!"

Fang finally stopped his howling and stared up sheepishly at his master.

Harry, Ginny, and Ron got to their feet slowly.

"Good luck," muttered Ron, clearly displeased with himself that he couldn't think of anything better to say.

"We're just an owl away if you need us," added Harry.

But it was Ginny who looked back at Hagrid with equal if not greater conviction than he had shown them.

"We're going to find them, Hagrid. We're going to find all of them."

Before Hagrid could ask what Ginny had meant by "all," she had led Harry and Ron out of the hut and into a flurry of mid-November snow.

"I'm sure that remark will help him get over it well," Ron shot across at Ginny as soon as they were out of earshot of the hut.

"I meant what I said," Ginny replied unapologetically. "And unlike some people, I don't give up."

"You mean you're pig-headed and obstinate and refuse to admit that you're wrong."

"You would know."

"Ginny," said Harry, clearing his throat lightly. "Who is Firenze?"

"Firenze is a centaur; he teaches Divination."

"I suppose Professor Trelawney is just a figment of our imagination," remarked Ron acidly.

"No," replied Ginny with dignity. "There are two Divination teachers: Trelawney and Firenze. There have been ever since my fourth year, when Umbridge tried to give Trelawney the sack."

"Yeah," said Ron, "and she didn't get away with it, did she? Or maybe you don't remember?"

"I remember differently," asserted Ginny, looking fiercely at Ron.

"And now this Firenze has vanished," said Harry, only half as a question. "Along with Grawp and Fump."

"All of them magical creatures," mused Ginny, "magical creatures that can talk, well, sort of, anyway, magical creatures with human qualities."

Ron shook his head. "But there's one thing you've gotten wrong this time: I don't know any Firenze and neither does anyone else. But I do remember Grawp and Fump. So does Hagrid and so does Harry. Didn't you say that we'd lost our memories of everyone that had disappeared?"

"Yes, I did, Ron, but I'm not the one who's made the mistake."

Harry's eyes widened. "You mean – "

Ginny nodded. "Whoever's doing all this has slipped up and left us a clue. Just like he did with the rings."

Ron's lips tightened as he looked between Harry and Ginny.

"I don't believe I'm hearing this," he declared. "You two go on back to the castle. If I find Uric the Oddball strolling across the grounds playing pitch and toss, I'll make sure you're the first to know."

Ron began to walk off on a path to his right.

"Ron, where are you going?" demanded Ginny.

"The greenhouse," replied Ron, without looking back around.

"But Herbology isn't for another three hours," protested Harry.

"I left something there," replied Ron over his shoulder, sounding unconcerned whether Harry or Ginny believed him.

"Ron, wait!" Harry cried after him. "You and Ginny need to talk this through!"

But Ron either did not hear him or chose not to respond.

"Let him go," said Ginny, taking hold of Harry's shoulder as he sighed. "He's beginning to doubt himself already, I can see it, but he doesn't want to let on. He'll come around eventually." She tugged onto Harry's arm and pulled him back in the direction of the school. "Tell me what happened with Professor Janus."

Harry broke into a blow by blow account of his lesson with Janus that took them all the way to the main door to the school. He was particularly chuffed about his successful flying lesson and seemed a bit put out when Ginny didn't share his enthusiasm.

"He really said that?" she asked, after Harry mentioned Janus' comment about the faltering memories of the participants in the first war. "He all but admitted he knows about the modified memories. Oh, Harry, I'm sure it must be him who's doing all this! And it all fits. He wouldn't have known about the rings, would he? Only me, you, and Ron knew! So he wouldn't have known to remove them. And I'll bet he didn't know about Grawp and Fump either! Hagrid always kept them a secret."

"But Ginny, he can't be working for the Death Eaters, surely? What about his talk with Malfoy this morning?"

"It isn't only Death Eaters that can do evil things, Harry."

"I know that but the Death Eaters must be involved. Otherwise, how could Malfoy know what he does? And if you believe what Trelawney said then Voldemort's coming back. Maybe he already is back."

Ginny frowned. "I admit I don't understand how it all fits together but Janus seems to know too much for someone who isn't mixed up in all this somehow."

At this, Harry could do little but agree with Ginny, though he wondered why it made him feel so disappointed.

"Ginny," he said. "If you're right about Grawp and Fump, then we've got another big problem."

"I know," said Ginny. "I thought of it, too. It means that whatever's making people disappear isn't the same thing that's making our memories of them go away as well. It's not the same spell at least."

"And so even if we get everyone's memories back, it doesn't mean we can get back all the missing people," finished Harry.

Ginny nodded and sighed.

"So, now what do we do?"

"Well, before we do anything else, we're going to get you up to the infirmary."

"I told you there's nothing wrong with my leg! Janus – "

Ginny put her hands on her hips and stared up at her boyfriend defiantly. Though Harry didn't dare to say it, he couldn't help but think that she looked strikingly like her mother.

"And who has your best interests at heart – Janus or me?"

"Oh, I don't know," replied Harry smirking.

Ginny led Harry by the arm up the stairs toward the hospital wing.

"And what are you going to do while I'm there?" Harry asked in a tone of mock indignation. "Wait on my every demand, I hope?"

Ginny shook her head. "I'm going back to Gryffindor Tower to rescue something of my essay for Potions. And if and when I get finished with that, I'm going to borrow your map."

"My map?"

"The Marauder's Map," clarified Ginny. "Please don't tell me you've forgotten about that, too."

Harry shook his head. "But what do you want that for?" he asked.

"Just an idea."

* * *

Two weeks had passed since Ginny had asked to borrow the Marauder's Map from Harry. Her search had not been fruitless, but what she had discovered was very different from what she had expected. She had thought of telling Harry right away but later decided to run further tests herself. Studying the map was a job for one person, after all. She would tell both Harry and Ron only when she was very sure of what she had seen. Then Ron would have to believe her.

At least that was what Ginny told herself. But the truth was she had kept running the tests even after there could be no doubt whatsoever as to what she had found. And yet even after all that had happened to her this year, she found her discovery very difficult indeed to accept. She wasn't at all sure what it could mean or how she was ever going to explain it.

Ginny had let everyone go down to dinner ahead of her, including Harry. Almost as soon as the common room was empty, Hedwig had tapped her beak at the window. As she had let her in, Ginny wasn't at all surprised to find that Hedwig had no letter for her. In the past few weeks, she had taken to flying down from the owlery to keep Ginny and Harry (and Snitch) company. Neither of them were very certain why and Harry could never remember Hedwig – or any other owl – behaving that way before. Ginny, for her part, couldn't shake the feeling that Hedwig was there to protect them, but how she did not know.

Ginny knew that she needed to get down to dinner soon but she found herself absently stroking Hedwig's feathers, her mind lost in thought as to how her new discovery could help to get her friends back.

"Where are you, Hermione?" she asked out loud, even though there was no one but Hedwig to hear her.

On an impulse Ginny dismissed as fruitless even as she followed through with it, she reached into her bag and produced a quill, ink bottle, and a small scrap of parchment. She dipped the quill into the ink bottle and wrote:

_Hermione,_

_If you can receive this, please answer._

_Ginny_

Ginny quickly rolled the parchment up and handed it to Hedwig, hoping that the owl would lift out her leg to take it. But Hedwig used her beak to roll the parchment back to Ginny. She then reached up and rubbed the side of her beak against Ginny's arm as if to console her.

"It's all right, Hedwig," said Ginny, sighing. "I didn't think it would be that easy."

Ginny then got to her feet, took the map tightly in her hand, and walked quickly down to the Great Hall. The time for indecision was over.

* * *

"Is Ginny with you?" Ron asked as Harry sat down across from him at the long Gryffindor dinner table.

"She's coming," said Harry evenly. "You might actually think about eating dinner with us this time instead of just running away."

Ron and Harry both looked around to make sure no one was listening, though Ron immediately felt stupid for doing so.

"I haven't been running away. I just don't see what point there is in sitting here listening to more stories of disappearing students and imaginary centaurs. Or perhaps, by way of a change tonight, we'll talk about fiendish conspiracies masterminded by Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers."

"Ron, you are being a prat."

"I don't know what else to be anymore, Harry. Someone's got to talk sense. And apparently it isn't going to be you since you just believe everything she says now."

"Perhaps if you kept a bit of an open mind," suggested Harry, feeling his patience slipping away.

"An open mind?" said Ron incredulously. "Harry, what she's saying is – well, it's – I just can't believe it. I mean, really, Harry, how likely is it that – "

"I didn't believe it at first, Ron, I'll admit. I believed that she believed it but I couldn't see how it could be possibly be true. But you've got to admit, some very strange things have been happening. Professor Trelawney - "

"Looney and past it!"

Harry started again. "And do you really think Dumbledore would have sent us those owls if there was nothing at all to what Ginny was saying?"

"I dunno. He's been obsessed about catching You-Know-Who for so long, he probably sees him behind every corner. Think about it, Harry: while everyone else was getting on with their lives, he spent fourteen years preparing for his return!"

"And a good thing he did!" said Harry, raising his voice.

Ron put his hands up in self-defense. "I'm not saying it wasn't, but don't you think, brilliant though he is, that Dumbledore might have been barking up the same tree once too often now?"

"Well, what about the wizard rings then?"

"That's the daftest thing of all!" Ron's face reddened. "As if I had some kind of dreamy-eyed girlfriend that I wanted to be my soulmate for the rest of our - what? Why are you smiling?"

"Why is that so daft, Ron? Don't you think – "

"No, I don't." Ron suddenly went pale. "Harry, don't do this to me," he said pleadingly. "It's not funny."

"No one said it was, Ron, but what if you did have a girlfriend like that?"

"I – I don't – no, Harry, I – oh, bloody hell, what's she on about now?"

Harry turned back to see that Ginny was advancing purposefully toward them, opening and closing the Marauder's map in a furtive manner as she approached. She looked several times up at the staff table, then back to the map in her hand. Finally, she spread the map out on the table in front of Ron and Harry with a triumphant thump.

"There!" she said, pointing to a part of the map that seemed to represent the Great Hall.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" asked Ron, with an air of forced patience.

"Look closely at the people in the hall," said Ginny.

There was a moment of silence as Ron turned the map sideways so that neither he nor Harry were looking at it upside down. Harry studied the names on the sheet carefully but nothing seemed amiss: he could see himself, Ginny, and Ron gathered close to one another. There was the usual meager number of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws, and a much larger crowd of Slytherins.

"Look at the staff table," said Ginny, following Harry's eyes.

Harry and Ron did as they were told. At first, nothing seemed amiss: as usual, the names of the teachers were arranged in a long row at the head of the hall with Dumbledore at the center. Looking carefully up at the staff table, Harry could see what appeared to be exactly the same scene.

"I don't get it," he finally said, as Ron sighed and shook his head.

"Count the number of teachers on the map."

"Oh, honestly, Gin!" Ron protested.

"Go on, humor me, just the ones to Dumbledore's left."

Ron continued to sigh but Harry did as he was told.

"There are four," he said.

Ginny nodded.

"Now count the number of teachers you can see sitting up there."

Harry looked up carefully and counted silently to himself. A moment later, he did it again, and then a third time, a frown creeping across his face that grew in time with Ginny's satisfied smile.

"I keep counting five, but that's – "

Harry broke off and looked down at the map, then up at the staff table, and then down at the map again. It wasn't obvious, but there seemed to be a gap in the space immediately to Dumbledore's left, a gap that wasn't there when Harry looked up at the real table, a gap that was filled by –

It was Ron who spoke first. His disinterested and sarcastic tone of voice seemed to have vanished completely.

"B – but that's impossible," he said. "The map doesn't lie. Professor Janus – h – he doesn't show up at all but I can see him sitting right there!"

"Exactly," said Ginny, looking pointedly at her brother. "And now I want you to explain to me how it is that, as you keep insisting, nothing is wrong, when according to this map, we've been having lessons with a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who does not really exist!"


	7. St Brutus: School for Criminal Children

**Chapter 7**

**St. Brutus's School for Criminally Incurable Girls and Boys**

Dr. David Granger shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he listened to the nun's sickly sweet voice. She continued to go on about judgment and retribution in the manner of a host on a cooking program patiently explaining a recipe for mince pies. David did not need to look across at his wife to imagine that she was thinking much the same as him. Neither of the Drs. Granger were particularly religious: both David and Jane had been raised Anglican. Jane's parents were still quite serious church go-ers, but she herself hadn't attended a service since college. David's father had been a physics professor at Cambridge and a committed atheist. His mother had christened him and taken him to church a few times when he was a young boy but she hadn't been very serious. As soon as his father had cut up rough about the whole thing, it had seemed easier for David's mother to stop taking him than to arouse his father's tetchy temperament. Neither Jane nor David had raised their daughter to attend church and neither she nor they were very accustomed to the kind of lecture they were presently receiving.

"It may have seemed to Hermione a harmless prank, a bit of a fun, a kind of..." The nun's voice lowered to an obnoxious whisper, "_experiment. _After all, they do experiment at that age, don't they? But life is so fragile. If hers were to end today then, well," the nun widened her eyes in mock thoughtfulness, "Our Lord is merciful indeed but such sins as - "

David cleared his throat loudly. "Excuse me, miss, er - "

The nun stopped talking and flashed David an icy smile.

"Oh, dear, I'm afraid _miss_ won't do at all, Dr. Granger," she said, self-consciously adjusting her habit. "I am _Sister_. But there is no need to apologize. The Catholic Church has endured many centuries of prejudice and misunderstanding on this beautiful island. It falls to us to instruct many students _and_ parents in the forgotten ways of their religious ancestors." The nun looked down at a clipboard she was holding in her hand. "I understand that Hermione was raised Anglican?"

This time, David did look across at his wife, but her face remained stoic. A brief flash of fear in her eyes, however, made it very clear how he should answer the question.

"Yes, er, that's right."

The nun's large eyes seemed to bore down at David as if determined to catch him in a lie. He prayed she would not ask him anything too specific. The words of his long-time colleague and friend, Alan Stevens, echoed in his mind from years ago:

"_For God's sake, David, it doesn't matter what you put down for her religion. Just get her into St. Brutus's. She won't survive the alternatives, believe me."_

David felt sweat start to slowly form on his forehead and was sure that the nun had noticed. He decided he had better break the silence but before he could speak, the nun was talking again.

"Most of our students are, of course," she said, with a sugary smile. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes. All of the sisters at this school try very hard to keep our students mindful that the wages of sin - unrepentant sin, that is - are nothing less than eternal damnation. Not a day goes by where - "

"Yes, that's very interesting, Sister," said Jane frostily. "But we have come a long way and I think my husband and I would like to hear more precisely the charges that have been raised against our daughter. As her parents and legal guardians, we also have to right to see her before she is questioned any further."

The nun drew up, a slightly hurt look on her face. "Are you by chance in the legal profession yourself, Mrs. Granger?"

It was David who replied.

"No," he said, giving the nun his own false smile. "But my brother is."

"I see," said the nun, her expression unchanging. "Then I will make things quite clear to you."

She covered the rosary around her neck with her hand as if to protect it from the horrible slander that was about to issue from her mouth and then continued talking in her sweetest voice:

"At St. Brutus's, we teach our students every day that God so loves them that He will forgive even their most grievous crimes against His creation if only they will repent and return to Him. Yet your daughter has chosen to reject this great gift and worship instead he who was the first to betray God's love, he who dared to tempt our Lord in the desert, _he whose name is unspeakable in the walls of this school_!"

"What, you mean Satan?" said Jane, matter-of-factly.

"You're accusing our daughter of devil worship?" asked David incredulously.

The nun's eyes had now grown very large indeed. She held her hands out in front of her as though she had been meaning to strangle something that had suddenly vanished into thin air.

"I'm sorry to say that we are," she went on, after a moment's pause during which she had been edging uncomfortably closer to David and Jane. "Moreover, it would have been serious enough if Hermione had merely kept her slothful behavior to herself but she has seen fit to lead a cult of other students, dragging them down into sin with her, and endangering their precious lives and souls when they were so close to being saved!"

"I can't believe I'm sitting here listening to this rubbish!" retorted Jane. "Our daughter is not a devil worshipper!"

The nun smiled again. "It is natural for a parent to want to defend their offspring and see their point of view. But may I remind you how and why your daughter had the fortune to be enrolled in our school in the first place?"

This quietened Jane as David knew that it would. It was easy to succumb the strain of the contradictory emotions that swirled in his head whenever he saw his daughter's empty room, watched his neighbors hurry past their house on walks with their dogs, or hear a knock on the door that forced him to remember the day when an officer of the law had come calling to "ask a few questions" of Hermione. He and Jane had only had each other through these dark days and he was determined for her sake that the nun's mention of Hermione's crimes would not silence him also.

"I wasn't aware that devil worship was a criminal offense," he said brusquely.

"That it is not but I think you will find that here at St. Brutus's, we hold ourselves to very high standards of moral rectitude. If your daughter cannot adhere to those standards, there are many secular institutions that would happy to assist in her... re-education."

It was the first time that the headmaster had spoken and both the content of his words and the manner in which they had been delivered left a cold hole in the pit of David's stomach. His greasy, unkempt hair seemed out of place with the sterile offices and corridors of the school. His pale, waxy skin and dark shifty eyes made David wonder that he wasn't a devil worshipper himself. What was his name - Smith? No, that wasn't right, somehow. David was sure he hadn't been the headmaster when Hermione had first been sent here, though for the life of him, he couldn't remember who that had been.

"That won't be necessary," said Jane, regaining her voice. "But we can hardly be expected to exert any influence over our daughter if we're not allowed to see her."

"We would never wish to keep a parent away from their child," said the nun, smiling again. "If you have no further questions, Headmaster Snape will show you to our room of quiet repose, where your daughter is waiting. I believe we have made our point very nicely this morning."

David shook his head and looked over at Jane to see that she was doing the same. His wife tried to appear cool and unfazed but David could see she was nervous. He hoped that her anxiousness was not as transparent to the others.

If this Snape was put out at receiving orders from the nun - and just what was her position at the school, in any case? - he did not show it. With an almost imperceptible nod, he walked over to Jane and David. He gestured his hand toward the door with a faint smile that barely concealed the kind of self-righteous disgust David had seen looking back at him on too many faces over the past several years.

David got to his feet followed by his wife, whom he noticed was trying to appear none too eager that she was following the nun's orders. She looked back up at Snape as though he was slightly beneath her intelligence. It was a look that had always made David feel slightly uncomfortable, yet he found himself glad for it on this occasion. Snape opened the door and let the Grangers out first then followed them out, closing the door behind him.

If David Granger had stopped to look back into the office after he left, he would certainly have noticed something very strange, the very same sort of thing, in fact, that had challenged his rigidly scientific understanding of the universe many times since his daughter was first born. But David remembered none of those things now and he would not be present to witness this one.

The smile on the nun's face quickly vanished as the door closed. She walked over behind Headmaster Snape's desk and sat down. She quickly removed her habit and ungracefully scratched her head, muttering something about itchy sheep. Seeming to realize that it would look very suspicious indeed were someone to walk into the office that very moment, least of all Snape, she reached into the pocket of her habit and took out what no one in the school but herself would recognize as a wand. She discreetly placed a locking charm on the door to the office that no Muggle key would break. She then tapped her wand to Snape's bottom desk drawer and cast the opposite charm. The drawer opened and she took out a videotape, regarding it with obvious distaste. She went over to a small television and video cassette recorder at the side of Snape's desk. After spending some time adjusting controls with which she was obviously unfamiliar, the nun managed to insert the tape and leaned in to study the small television closely.

The picture on the screen crackled for a few moments but then resolved. It was a black and white image of a small playground ringed by high fences of barbed wire. The playground was empty. A counter at the top of the screen read:

_27-10-1996 07.17_

The nun watched the image closely, tapping her fingers on the desk impatiently. A moment later, a teenage girl with long straggly brown hair dressed in a blue school uniform walked into the picture. Muttering most un-nun like curses under her breath, the occupant of the headmaster's office adjusted the dials and knobs in front of her in an unsuccessful effort to focus the picture more closely on what the girl was doing.

The girl stood there for a moment, looking around, apparently to make sure that no one was watching her. She then sat down on a bench and seemed to grow very interested in a small cluster of pebbles on the earth nearby. She did not move for what the counter registered as a little more than two minutes. Then, Hermione Jane Granger reached into the pocket of her blouse and took out a long, knarled stick to which a long black feather had been awkwardly attached with a rubber band. She swished the stick through the air and flicked it at the pebbles. At first, nothing happened. But on the second try, one of the pebbles seemed to move. By her fifth and sixth attempts, the pebbles were dancing around each other in circles.

"Idiot girl," hissed the nun.

She had seen enough. Without waiting to see what Hermione would do next, the nun worked out how to remove the tape and placed it on the table. She touched her wand to its surface.

* * *

"_Incinerate."_

_"My name is Hermione Granger. I have been accused of devil worship. All I know is that I have powers I do not understand."_

Hermione looked down at the words on the page in front of her as if expecting that if she didn't do so, they would disappear. She knew that it was dangerous to record her true experiences and feelings - especially now - but it seemed like the only thing keeping her sense of self together. More than that, Hermione felt it was important to keep a record of things, though she was not entirely sure why. Hermione couldn't remember needing to write before, but then things had never been as strange as they had been this term.

Sighing, she put her pen to paper again. She knew that any of the nuns could open the door at any minute, see what she was doing, and take the diary away, but Hermione also knew that she wasn't going to just sit here alone, wringing her sweaty palms while Headmaster Snape and that nun, whoever she was, were in there talking to her parents. She looked across at the small altar in the corner of the room where two lit candles flanked a blue Virgin Mary, whose arms were stretched out wide. She remembered how she had been told the day she first came to St. Brutus's that the statue showed how God loved everyone, even the worst sinners like herself. She knew that many of her fellow students had knelt in front of the statue, praying for mercy in the moments before they were called into the headmaster's office. But Hermione knew she couldn't do that. Even after everything that had happened, Hermione still felt that the only person she could rely on for help was herself.

Hermione started to write:

"_I'm not afraid of what they're going to do to me. I don't care if they expel me even. The kids at the other schools will be tough and mean, I'm sure, but I'd do anything to get away from the horrible holier-than-thou attitude of these nuns. They say they're trying to save my soul but I feel like they're pulling it out from the inside so that there's nothing left inside me but guilt."_

Hermione stopped writing for a moment and looked up from the page curiously, momentarily surprised and pleased at the poetry of her words. It also seemed that by writing such raw feelings down on the page, she had taken something wretched and poisonous out of herself. Encouraged, she pressed on:

"_I don't feel guilty that I wasn't grateful to the nuns or anything. And I don't want to apologize for anything I've done here in the last few weeks. I hate them and I don't care what they think. I don't even feel sorry for those people whose house I burned down. They were mean and nasty, too, though it still doesn't seem like me doing it. It's almost as though I have someone else's memories in my mind. I don't think I can feel as much hate as I remember myself feeling then._

_"What I really feel guilty about is Mum and Dad. They shouldn't have to suffer so much because of what I did. And I know they'll worry a lot more if I'm expelled. I can look after myself but I don't know about them."_

Hermione felt her face flush as she read her last paragraph over again. She then put pen to paper once more, determined to out her true thoughts before she was let into the headmaster's office and made to feel awful about herself.

_"I know I haven't really been doing any devil worship. I don't even believe there is a devil except for the devil in people's hearts. What's more, I don't think they believe it, either. They're afraid of what I can do because they don't understand it. But I think it's a gift. And they don't want me to have a gift, so they want to take it away from me. Only they can't because it's a part of me."_

Hermione stopped writing and paused for a moment. She couldn't really think of anything else to say but she was sure she didn't want to spend the next few minutes of freedom just sitting waiting and worrying. She turned back the pages of her diary and read from the beginning just as she had so many times before...

_7 September 1996_

_I've decided to start keeping a diary. I know it sounds odd but now I feel things would have been much different for me if I'd done this all along. I thought of telling Sister Owens; she's the only nun who's ever been really nice to me here, but something made me stop. Maybe I'll tell her later._

_I'm been feeling odd and out of sorts all week. I suppose it's the weather; it's been very changeable lately. There were even some strange flashes in the sky last night. Lavender woke me up and showed them to me. I think it must have been _Aurora Borealis_. Everything seems different to me here, now, even though I've been here for years. How long has it really been now? I've lost track. Anyway, today we had our first P.E. class of the term and we were due to play netball. We went out onto the court and a very odd sort of feeling came over me; I had the funny sense I'd never played there before, a kind déjà vu in reverse, I suppose. But I've always liked playing netball; it's one of the only things around here that can take one out of oneself. I must have played on that court hundreds of times. Afterwards, I remembered, of course, and the game sort of came to me when we started; I made five baskets, in fact, which is good for me._

_8 September 1996_

_Something very interesting happened today. We were queuing up for lunch. I noticed something was off from the start because Sister Barnes usually wanders up and down the rows, monitoring anyone who has a stocking out of place or some such nonsense, and sending them off to the room of quiet repose instead of giving them lunch. My friend Catherine reckons they've only got enough lunches to feed a certain number of students and they have to send the rest off every day; I think she's probably right, it's always the same number each time and it's been like this for years._

_Sorry, I'm going off at a bit of a tangent. As I was saying, Sister Barnes wasn't there at first but then she turned up a few minutes later and she had a man with her. I think he was the ugliest person I've ever seen: his face is as pale as a ghost's and he has horrible black greasy hair. Sister Barnes introduced him to us as the new headmaster. His name is Snape. He was dressed all in black with a wooden cross around his neck. I think he might be a priest, though he didn't wear a collar. Catherine has started calling him Dr. Frankenstein; perhaps I will, too._

_He gave a short speech, then. He wasn't at all full of airs like Headmaster Dunn was. He was all full of doom and gloom, about how we'd done awful things, how we'd better change our ways or we'd spend the rest of our lives in a much worse prison than this. I was expecting the usual fire and brimstone ending, how we'd burn forever in hell after finishing our lives in Dartmoor prison or something, but funnily enough he didn't say anything about that. I think Sister Barnes was pleased with him, though._

_The creepiest thing of all was that just as Snape had finished and Sister Barnes was finally about to let us go and eat lunch, he seemed to stop and stare straight at me. I thought he was going to tell me off for something, though I couldn't think what. But he had the oddest look on his face as if he recognized me. I'm sure we've never met, though; I don't think I'd forget a horrible face like his. We stood there for a moment staring at each other, then he let Sister Barnes take him off somewhere else. I don't think anyone noticed. I asked Catherine but she's swears she didn't notice a thing. Very odd._

_11 September 1996_

_I wanted to write in this every day but I suppose that's not going to be possible. It's hard keeping it from the nuns for one thing and we've an awful lot of homework to do this year, not that I mind usually, but this term it seems a bit much. I don't know why, really, it's not as if we have much future, even if we do get out of this place. Lavender told me the other day that whatever it was we did, it will be on our record for life. I don't think any university will want to take someone who burned someone else's house down. I didn't tell Lavender this, though I'm sure she'd love to know. Not that anyone has ever found out what she did to get in here. Speaking of the devil, I'd better stop writing now; she's coming this way and she'll want to look over my shoulder and see what I'm doing._

_14 September 1996_

_Well, I've done it; I'm in the room of quiet repose now. And only the second time since I've been here. Catherine thinks it must be something of a record; she's been in at least half a dozen times, but at least she didn't have to face Dr. Frankenstein._

_Of course, it's so easy to get on the wrong end of the stick here. They just expect you'll cause trouble and when you don't, they think it's something they haven't noticed._

_What did I do, you might ask? Well, something a bit worse that having my stockings on the wrong way round this time._

_One of the younger girls in the playground was getting bullied by some of the boys. She's so short and tiny. I can't believe that anyone so young could have done something to get put in here. I was sure I'd seen her before but she said this was her first term here. I think some of the other boys her age or perhaps a year or two older were trying to get something from her. I suspect her parents had given her money or something and they'd found out about it. Of course, we're not supposed to have money here but some parents bring it in when they come on visits. Mine did for a while until I told them not to. It just causes trouble because then someone will try to steal it from you._

_They were just shouting at her at first and I thought to mind my own business, but then one of them shoved her to the ground. I started to get scared. I looked around for a nun but they were all standing near the tree, laughing about something and not taking any notice. The girl wouldn't get up and one of the boys looked like he was going to hit her again. I rushed over and gave him a very hard shove. Of course, he was quite a bit smaller than me, so it wasn't too difficult. They soon cleared off. The girl - her name is Arabella Wycliffe - had a nasty bruise on her arm from where she'd been pushed down to the pavement. I was just about to take her to the nurse when I saw Sister Edwards running over looking like a hunter at the final kill. I tried to tell her what had happened to Arabella but all she was interested in was how I had shoved this poor, innocent, boy to the ground. Then I argued with her, of course, which made her even happier because it gave her another reason to punish me. They've always wanted to catch me out, of course: I'm too well-behaved and I study too hard for them. It makes them think that not all of us are all that awful and, of course, they don't like to think that. It makes them realize they're not so holy and above everyone after all._

_So here I am waiting for this Headmaster Snape. A bit odd really, I suppose, that they switched headmasters on the first week of school. I wondered what did happen to old Dunn. I don't blame him if he just wanted to leave this place; I do._

_No doubt Frankenstein wants to keep me waiting. I suppose he'll think it will wear me down, that by the time he gets to me, I'll be begging for him not to punish me. But I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me weak. I_

_15 September 1996_

_That was awfully close. The door opened just as I was writing. I just managed to get the diary back into my pocket in time. I don't think Frankenstein noticed._

_I wasn't wrong about him; he is absolutely terrible. His whole speech was full of how I just seemed the type who thought I was better than everyone else, that it must make me happy to push innocent boys down to the ground. I tried to tell him that the boy wasn't so innocent but he never gave me the chance to say much. He would just shout at me to be silent. He had terrible breath that I could smell right across the desk whenever he opened his mouth so I didn't say anything much after that. He talked for a long time, of course. All about how I had done just the sort of thing that would get me locked up in here for much longer or, since I was almost of age, I would get sent to a real prison. He seemed very pleased about that. Then he went off on the same boring prison riff he had served up at lunch the other day. He did manage to add a few things about hell and judgment this time, though. Now, I think he's definitely a priest._

_But something very queer happened just as he was finishing up the bit where I died and went to hell. He seemed to come over all funny, like he was in a trance. His face got a bit of color and he started gritting his teeth as if he was fighting with something. Then he said:_

_"I know who you are even if you do not know. You must take care because they will be watching - "_

_And that was it. Then he seemed to snap right out of it and he was on again about how I would get my pitchfork and tail or whatever the hellish equivalent is for a halo and wings. He made me stay in the library after lessons for a week and write down lines from the bible. He said he would give Sister Trent the appropriate passages; no doubt it will be something about sin and damnation. It isn't so bad, I suppose, though; perhaps I can look at some other books while I'm there. He also asked me to say fifty "hail Mary's" which I have no intention of doing._

_He did finish up by saying that he would be watching me from now on and he didn't seem to be in a trance when he said it this time. I'll have to be very careful from now on, I suppose. I think if I had to face him another time, he might be quite a bit nastier._

Hermione sighed. She should have read over her diary more often. That was a piece of advice to herself that had certainly gone unheeded. She looked anxiously up at the clock on the wall next to the ugly statue of what she could only assume was St. Brutus. What had that nun been talking to her parents about for so long? Looking down at the palm of her hand, Hermione was bothered to find it glistening with sweat. No, she decided, I'm not going to let them intimidate me like this. I'm going to remind myself what I really did and why before they can make me believe their lies.

Hermione returned to the diary again and turned the pages slowly. At last she found the entry she was looking for. That was the day it had all started.

_18 October 1996_

_Since I haven't said anything about it for a long time, I'd like to write and say that at least one thing seems to have improved: those boys at the playground don't seem to be bothering Arabella very much now. Perhaps they're afraid of me. Though if I got anywhere near them, I'd be the one headed for another meeting with Snape. Maybe they don't realize that. Whatever it is, I've gotten to know Arabella a bit better now and I think she's starting to look up to me. I don't know if I'm the sort of person anyone should look up to, but it doesn't seem that anyone else is going to be there for her. For what it's worth, I haven't told her what I did to get here. But she's not stupid; she must know it was something._

_But before I go on any further, something very odd happened today. I almost feel funny writing it down because it couldn't possibly be. I was bored after lunch today; there was nothing to do and the boys had taken over the netball court. Catherine was just watching them; I think she fancies the tall one, what's his name, Justin? Anyway, I was sitting on the bench out near one of the trees and I started playing with a stick on the ground. I don't know why I went to play with it; it was just an old stick. I suppose I must have been really bored. I wish the nuns could let us into the library at lunch but, of course, they'd never let us go off anywhere on our own and they'd only be suspicious of me if I asked._

_But I'm getting away from the story again. I picked up the stick and started making funny figure-eights in the air with it, like I was a conductor or something. I still don't know why. It sounds very childish when I write about it. I really must have been well and truly bored. Then I saw a cup on the ground. It was polystyrene, which can't biodegrade, of course and it just would have sat there forever. Of course, none of the nuns care if things look nice around here; it's just a prison school anyway and I doubt if Filch would have paid it the slightest notice. He seems more concerned about policing students and having them sent to Snape. I suppose that will take him a long way here._

_So I saw this cup on the ground only I felt too lazy to go over and pick it up. I think being bored makes one a bit lazy. I haven't the faintest idea what made me do it. Anyone reading this must think I've gone mad. I suppose it's all the years being locked up in here that does it to one. Perhaps what happened next wasn't real, either. It doesn't seem that it could be but it's what I saw with my own eyes. I pointed the stick at the cup and it moved a bit. Then I swished the stick around in the air a bit and it moved right toward me and stopped at my feet._

_Of course, I thought it was the wind. But then I tried it again from all kinds of positions and the same thing happened each time. And towards the end, I felt a kind of tingling in my hands from the stick, like it had energy somehow. It was all very odd. I thought about keeping the stick but then I realized how daft that would be so I left it laying around outside. I suppose I should stop writing about this now. I'll try to get to sleep and perhaps I will have forgotten all about it in the monotony of the morning._

_If only it had been that easy, Hermione thought to herself. She almost wished it had. She quickly glanced over the next two entries, both of them about how mean Sister Jones had been to Catherine when she hadn't finished her homework in on time. Then she arrived at the next entry she was looking for._

_24 October 1996_

_Something most odd happened today; I'm not at all sure what to make of it._

_I was trying to work out a trigonometry problem. I never have liked trigonometry, although I do well in every other subject. Since none of the nuns much care how one does, it's hard to excel in a subject unless you have a burning passion for it. I suppose it's good that I do feel that way about most subjects, otherwise I don't think I'd do well in anything. I try to remember what Mum and Dad would think or say if they were here , though, and that keeps be going through the problem sets._

_One of the exercises had finished in some ghastly algebra; I'd had to take the solution out to some tremendous number of decimal places. Of course, I knew I'd gotten it wrong then because they always make these so they come out nicely. I was wondering whether I should bother to go back and try and find my mistake when I heard someone calling my name._

_I looked up and was very surprised to find that Dean Thomas had sat down across from me. At first, I thought he might have wanted my help with something, as people sometimes do, but that wasn't it at all._

_"Hermione, have you got a moment to talk?" he said. He was talking in a very low voice and kept looking around as though he thought someone would be listening in. I was about to ask him to speak up when he went on and said:_

_"I've been waiting to catch you when there was no one about. I saw what you were doing out in the playground yesterday."_

_I nearly dropped my fountain pen on my skirt then. I asked him what he meant, though I already knew what he was talking about._

_"With the stick." Dean looked about as stupid as I had felt the other day and I couldn't blame him. Here we were, two seventeen-year-old convicts talking about doing magic tricks out in the playground._

_"You made that cup move by itself," Dean added. "I was watching you from the football pitch."_

_I wasn't sure quite what Dean was after, bringing this up. I felt like a complete fool, yet it seemed he was completely serious and even a bit afraid of the whole thing._

_"Oh, well, yes, I did, I suppose. I - I expect it must have been the wind, or - "_

_But Dean was shaking his head. I tried to convince myself that he must be pulling my leg, only Dean's never been one to do that sort of thing._

_"You tried it several times. I watched you."_

_"Well, yes, I'm sure it must have seemed a bit stupid but - "_

_Dean shook his head. "Hermione, you know, don't you?"_

_"Know what?" Now, I was becoming curious._

_Dean leaned in even closer._

_"It's not only you," he said. "I've done it, too. I can do other things also. But I can't tell you here. I don't think they'd like it if they knew. Can you meet me after lunch tomorrow?"_

_"In the playground?"_

_"They'd hardly let us go anywhere else, would they?"_

_"No, I suppose not. But - "_

_"It interests me very much to know, Miss Granger, how it is you can be helping Mr. Thomas with his trigonometry when he has to read the paper upside down."_

_Yes, you've spotted it. I looked up and was staring straight into Sister Trent's horrible praying mantis spectacles. She didn't let either of us say anything in our defence, of course. And she thought she knew all about what we were doing._

_"You can discuss your arrangements for the dance another time."_

_I think I must have gone red at this since she broke into a very sadistic smile._

_"Don't let me catch the two of you talking in the library again, Miss Granger. You're already in Headmaster Snape's bad books. He wouldn't be pleased to know you've been causing further trouble."_

_Sister Trent then walked away, obviously satisfied that she'd made her point. After she had left, Dean leaned in closer to me and said:_

_"Tomorrow, Hermione."_

_And then he went off, too, accompanied by a lot of silly giggling and tittering from some of the other girls._

_Writing this now, though, I realize the whole thing's a bit mad. No one can make cups move with twigs. I suppose Dean must have been trying to chat me up, after all. Maybe he was just shy. I never thought about going to the dance with anyone before (oh, I don't think I mentioned before that they were having this dance; it's some kind of charity group coming in to do it, no doubt to make themselves feel pious. Or perhaps they just want to make sure we pair off with each other instead of endangering the rest of society). I don't suppose he knows anything about talking to girls that way. It's not as if they teach us here or give us any time to be alone together. Perhaps I should be happy. He is quite handsome, after all. Still, I'm not sure I could really think about him that way. It sounds a bit silly but I should think that if I did want to go to the dance, it would be with someone even taller than he is._

_25 October 1996_

_I did get together with Dean today. It seems he wasn't having me on or trying to chat me up, after all. I don't know what I can possibly make of all this. It seems like it must be a dream but I suppose it isn't now._

_We met at the playground as he said. Of course, there's nowhere we can go where no one is watching. We just sat close together near the netball court. If we had tried to go far away into a little corner, someone would have gotten suspicious. Most everyone was playing so no one took much notice of us. The nuns were chatting together as usual. I suppose if anyone had been around they would have thought we really were just talking about the dance._

_But we weren't. Dean brought a stick with him in his bag. He said he had rubbed it down with a stone, just a little bit each day when he didn't think anyone was noticing him. It felt smooth, not knarled like the twig I was using. Then he placed a few pebbles in front of him, moved the stick on top of them and they all went around in little circles._

_Now, I got suspicious at this point, because a lot of things can do that. For all I know the stick had some kind of magnet in it. It would just be thing for Dean to be laughing with his football mates afterwards that I had thought he was doing magic. So I took the stick away from him and tried it myself. I couldn't make the pebbles move as well as he had but they stirred a bit. But I still wasn't convinced and I told him so._

_He seemed a bit annoyed then. He's very quiet so he didn't shout or anything and, of course, neither of us wanted to attract too much attention, but I could see he was cross. He told me he was going to prove it to me. So he took the stick and pointed it at the ball the girls were playing with. He did it in a way that I don't think anyone else noticed. He waited until one of the girls was getting ready to shoot. She wasn't very far from the net, but as soon as she threw it up in the air, I could see it was going to miss by miles. But then he moved his wand in the air - I suppose I'd already come to think of it that way by then - and said something under his breath. I couldn't quite make out what it was he said but it was like a gust of wind had taken hold of the ball and steered it to the basket. I thought it was going in at first but then it hit the rim and bounced out. The girls were shouting and giggling for a bit but then they went back to their game. I don't think they really believed what it was they had seen. And no one looked back over at Dean._

_I didn't know to say. He just shrugged a little and said:_

_"I couldn't quite get it to go in the basket. I'm still trying."_

_I think I just stopped and stared at him. I don't know when it was that I said:_

_"B - but how, what, when did you learn to do this? W - why did you - I don't - "_

_"I don't know, really," muttered Dean. "It sort of just came to me. I don't know why or how I thought of doing it."_

_"How long have you been able to do this?"_

_"Just this term."_

_"Same with me. I - "_

_"Look, Hermione, we can't talk for much longer. People will start to notice us and we don't want the nuns or anyone else here to know, believe me."_

_"No, I suppose - "_

_"Just keep practicing, Hermione. You have a gift."_

_Dean touched me very briefly on the shoulder and got up to leave. I sat there for a long time just staring at the ground, trying to take it all in. I was lucky that no one took much notice of me. Then that awful buzzer went and it was time for us to queue up for lessons._

_I don't know what to think about this. I don't know what it could mean or whether it could ever change_

_26 October 1996_

_I hate Lavender Brown! She's the most evil, gossipy, awful COCKROACH of a person with whom I've ever had the misfortune of crossing paths. And the worst part is that I'll have to be horribly nice to her now because she knows a lot of things about me I'd rather no one else found out. I'm still going to write nasty things about her in this diary every day though and I hope she reads them, too!_

_I was just in the middle of a sentence when there was a knock on the door. I was about to get up and answer it when Sister Barnes just opened the door and walked straight in. I just had a moment to stuff the diary under my blanket and didn't have time to put it away properly._

_I was very nervous at first. I was sure she must have come to see about what I was doing with Dean on the playground. But it wasn't that at all. She told me that Emily Dibble was sick and couldn't take her turn to clean the latrines on the third floor. She wondered if she might find someone in my room to do it instead and as I was the only one there... Of course, she made it sound like a request, but I knew that it wasn't. She seemed very pleased to see it was me._

_I was bitter for being singled out like this, especially when I know Emily's always been Barnes's little darling, but I knew it wouldn't do to make anything less than the best job of it. It was late and I was very tired. Barnes made sure she checked everything was just so; Lord knows she's nothing better to do on a Friday night. Finally, I could go back to my room._

_All I wanted to do when I got back into the room was sleep. But when I got there, what should I find by Lavender sitting on my bed and reading my diary._

_She tried to hide it as soon as I walked in, of course, but she's never been very quick with this sort of thing. I was furious, of course. I tore it away from her and started spitting insults in her face. I called her everything and I didn't care who heard. She looked very scared. Of course, it was a very stupid thing for me to do, shout like that. Any of the nuns could have come in any moment and asked what was going on and then they would have surely found out about the diary. I can't think what they would have done if they'd read about what Dean and I had been doing or, worse, the not very nice things I've been saying about all of them. But I didn't care. I think I must have been on the point of hitting her when she did the last thing I expected._

_She reached into the back of her skirt and pulled out a wand very much like Dean's. That finally managed to stop me shouting at her and she started to talk._

_"I'm really sorry, Hermione," she said, her eyes on the verge of crocodile tears. "I know I should never have read your things but I saw you out there with Dean on the playground and I had to know - "_

_"- whether I was going to the dance with your secret crush?"_

_This obviously hit a nerve and I felt pleased. I've known Lavender has a crush on Dean for years. She giggles even more stupidly than normal whenever he's around._

_"No, you've got it all wrong," insisted Lavender, her eyes wide in mock innocence. "I - I wanted to know whether it was true, whether you had the powers, too. I - I've watched Dean do it for weeks now. I don't think he knows I was watching him but I - well - so I got my own piece of wood and I rubbed it down the way he did. And then - well - I found that I had the powers, too. I can't do as much as he does, I think, but I can make one or two things move."_

_I wasn't sure at all what to say then. Of course, I was still furious with her and I still don't trust her. She's just to type to tell everything to the nuns. But at that moment, I felt my curiosity start to overcome my anger, especially when I noticed something different about her wand._

_"What is that?" I finally asked._

_There was a black feather - it looked like it had been taken from a blackbird or crow - tied around the outside of Lavender's wand with a rubber band._

_"It's a feather," said Lavender blankly._

_Stupid girl!_

_"I know it's a feather," I said, very patiently under the circumstances. "What's it doing there?"_

_"I - I can't say really," said Lavender, "but it makes it easier to, well, move things. Don't ask me why I thought of putting it on there. It just, well, came to me."_

_I nodded. Any of this would have seemed fantastic to me just a few days ago, but now it seemed like I was hearing the same thing over and over again from different people._

_That was all we were able to talk about last night. The lights went out then. I put the diary away quickly as I knew that Sister Lewis would come around checking on us. Lavender put away her wand and we got into our beds._

_But I haven't gone to sleep so easily. I don't know how late it is now but it isn't the first time I've read by those horrible bright lights that they shine from the courtyard outside and come in through the bars on our window. Our lives are so planned here that it's the only chance I have to read something just because it interests me._

_But tonight I'm writing. And doing a lot of thinking as well. Before we went to sleep, Lavender told me I could use her wand and I think I will. No one will be up on a Saturday morning. They let us out for breakfast and I'll say I have to go and use the girls' room. Then I'll slip out into the playground; they'll never know. It's a bit risky but I'm too excited not to try it. It's only moving around some stones on the ground but somehow it makes me feel like I can really be something besides a failure and a criminal._

_I don't think I shall sleep at all tonight but I'm going to stop writing here._

_27 October 1996_

_Well, I did it. And Lavender was right. It seems she must know something after all. I would never have thought it possible._

_Her wand worked much better than Dean's. I put five pebbles together in a row. The first time I tried it, nothing happened, but I wasn't going to be stopped that easily so I kept trying again and again. And finally it worked. I could move them around just as easily as Dean had. And I know the pebbles didn't have any magnets or anything._

_But what does it all mean? And what else can I do? Dean could move that netball. Maybe if we practiced, we could move something much bigger._

_Like a wire fence._

_No, I mustn't think like that. It would just make things worse for everyone, especially my parents. But I shall see why I have to be especially careful to keep this away from the nuns - and Snape._

_30 October 1996_

_It's the first time since the morning I tried to move the pebbles with Lavender's wand that I've seen Dean. I saw him practicing out in the playground again. I just sat near him for a few minutes in case anyone got suspicious. I told him about the feather._

_"Here, you try it," I said, discreetly handing him the wand._

_Dean took the wand from me cautiously._

_"I will," he said, "but not here, I - "_

_He hesitated._

_"What is it?" I asked._

_"You don't know what happened last night, do you?"_

_I didn't._

_"Dennis Creevey, do you know him?"_

_I frowned. "The name sounds familiar; I don't think I've met him though. What happened?"_

_Dean hesitated, clearly wondering if he should go on any further._

_"He and this other boy," he finally said, "can't remember his name - same year - Malcolm, I think - anyway, they're always having a go at each other. Dennis is short and a bit shy and the bloke's always seen him as an easy target. At any rate, it was Dennis' turn to scrub the toilets, you know what that's like."_

_Too right, I thought._

_"Anyway, it seems this Malcolm bloke wanted to use the loo and Dennis' bucket was in the way. He told him to shove it, not so nicely as that, mind you, and Dennis just looked up and stared at him. Well, then, Malcolm got angry and just kicked Dennis' bucket aside. All the dirty water went all over the floor and his clothes. But Dennis didn't say anything. He just looked up at him with this horrible look on his poor 'ol face and then - "_

_Dean stopped talking._

_"Yes?"_

_"Well, I don't know about in the girl's loo but in ours there's a mirror right as you walk in on the left."_

_"Yes, go on."_

_"Well," Dean hesitated again. "I wasn't there so I can't say for certain, but one of the other boys on our floor, Gavin, he was there and he told us what he saw. Dennis kept looking at Malcolm, right, he wasn't even looking at the mirror at all but then - but then the mirror smashed into pieces. Gavin said Malcolm was over in front of the loos, must have been a good three yards away. The glass just seemed to fly out and hit him."_

_I think I must have gasped. "Was he all right?"_

_"Well, there were little pieces of glass all over his face and his sweater and he was screaming. That was when everyone else came running. I'm pretty fast and so I was one of the first to get there. Most everyone was looking at Malcolm but I was watching the look on Dennis' face. I think most people would have been surprised but he just looked really scared."_

_"Meaning?"_

_"Meaning I don't think it was the first time he's done something like that."_

_"But he wasn't near the mirror, either, then, was he?"_

_Dean shook his head._

_"So then how could he - "_

_I stopped talking when I saw the look in Dean's eyes._

_"Don't tell me you think it was a coincidence, Hermione."_

_"But he didn't have a wand, did he?" I whispered._

_Dean frowned. "I don't think so but all the same."_

_"Well, what happened then? The nuns must have come, surely?"_

_"Luckily, it was Sister Owens on duty last night. The nice one. Anyway, she took Malcolm along to the hospital wing."_

_"And Dennis?"_

_Dean shrugged. "She was nice to him. Even let him get out of his soaked things and change."_

_"She didn't punish him?"_

_"How could she? Would you have believed he could have made that mirror crack all over Malcolm? He'd have to have been on the other side of it and there's nothing there but the wall. She probably thought it was divine retribution for what Malcolm had done to him."_

_I half-smiled. "Maybe it was."_

_"Maybe," said Dean, without returning my smile. "But I'd be extra careful if I were you, Hermione. I doubt Sister Owens knew the whole story but it's bound to go around the school and Snape's sure to find out. He wouldn't take kindly to anyone doing magic."_

_I laughed in spite of myself. "Is that what we're doing here, magic?"_

_"What else would you call it, Hermione?"_

_I didn't say anything for a moment. Forcing my doubts down, again, I looked back at Dean and told him about an idea I'd had going around in my mind for a few days._

_"Look, maybe we should all get together somehow. You and me, Lavender, Dennis - anyone else who can do," I paused, "magic. Maybe we can teach each other something."_

_Dean shook his head. "I don't know, Hermione. Playing with sticks is one thing. Getting a group together. They'd probably think we were practicing witchcraft or something. And when they found we could actually do it - "_

_"Don't be silly! It's not anything of the sort!"_

_"You don't know that, Hermione."_

_"Well, look," I said. "Perhaps we can help each other control our magic so something like what happened to Dennis doesn't happen again."_

_"I don't know, Hermione."_

Hermione closed the diary and ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. She had known how dangerous it could be if the school found out about their powers days before Dean had told her about Dennis. It said so right there in her diary. But her excitement and curiosity had gotten the better of her. If only she had listened to Dean.

Hermione sighed and continued to turn the pages of the diary, reviewing the final events that had led to the predicament she found herself in now.

_20 November 1996_

_Well, we've done it. We've had our first meeting. It was difficult to find a time as much as a place. We finally decided to meet on Friday afternoons just after tea. The nuns have a staff meeting then as it's the only night they're not called to monitor us in the library. They usually leave one or two nuns on duty but it's much fewer than usual. Still, I don't think we should meet the week that it's Sister Barnes' turn._

_Of course, we're supposed to be doing cleaning in the kitchen and the hall then but there are never enough tasks for everyone to do and everyone's nearly always done beforehand. The nuns just keep us in there until their meeting is over. They lock all the doors to everywhere else in the school just in case but there's a small sort of storage room between the pantry and the boilers where no one goes. It's cramped and dirty but it will have to do. I think we can only spend about fifteen minutes there each meeting but it should be enough to share what we've learned that week and help everyone control their powers._

_There are six of us altogether so far: myself, Dean, Lavender, Dennis, his older brother Colin, and - wait for it - Arabella. Yes, I know, it's a bit mad. She kept watching me out in the playground. I don't think I was too obvious but she's always taken an interest in everything I did since the time I helped her on the playground; as I said, I think she looks up to me. She started doing the same things I was doing; she made her own wand and she found she could do some simple spells as well. She was awfully excited about it and part of me can't help but feel pleased. But I'm also very worried: it's bad enough if one of the others of us gets caught but at least we haven't long left in this school. The nuns could make things much more difficult for her for much longer. Perhaps it's my own feelings of guilt that disturb me the most. I feel very responsible for the fact that she's in the group in the first place._

_I think there must be others, too: Dean said there was another boy in our year - Justin, the one that Catherine fancies. Dean said that last week, Sister Edwards had told Justin off for getting some of his sums wrong in maths. Later on in the same lesson, a light bulb burst just over her head. Of course, I would have thought it quite silly that Justin had anything to do with that just a couple of weeks ago, but now I'm not so sure._

_Everyone had to prove they could do magic to get into the group, in case anyone planned to tell tales on us to the nuns. We met briefly together in the kitchens. We didn't say a word about what we were doing and quietly walked off to the pantries and then the storage room. We didn't do all that much our first time but I found out about some other powers: Colin can make things appear out of thin air! He only managed to conjure up a sort of squishy bit of foam but perhaps if he practices - if we all practice - well, then, there's no telling how far all this might go or where it will take us._

Hermione buried her face in her arms, trying to force back the tears that threatened to spring out from her eyes. They would never know now how far they might have gone. Part of her wanted to stop reading now as though the events of the last two days could be dismissed as a nightmare that had insinuated itself into her blossoming dream, yet Hermione knew that wishful thinking couldn't help her to face what was to come and so she read on_._

_23 November 1996_

_Something terrible has happened. They know. They've found out. I don't know how I could ever have been so horribly naïve. Looking back on things, it was only a matter of time._

_It was during lunch when Sister Barnes came to find me and told me that Headmaster Snape wanted to see me. I knew it even before I saw her approach. I could see it in Catherine's eyes as she watched her walking up behind my back when we were eating. And then when I turned around and saw her looking so horribly pleased (though she tried to disguise it with a suitably holy frown), I knew exactly what she was going to say._

_I think I was just numb with the shock of it all by the time I reached Snape's office. Sister Barnes left me in there by myself. I think that was the first and probably last time in my life I shall ever wish that she had stayed with me anyway._

_Snape didn't say anything for what seemed like ages. I think that was the worst part. Then he asked me to come around behind his desk. I wasn't at all sure what he was after until I saw a small television on the table to the right of his desk. He went into his desk and took out a video. I was horrified. There was a picture of me out in the playground talking to Dean. You could see us practicing with the wands. Then, he showed me another picture of the group of us meeting in the kitchens ready to go down for our first meeting. I didn't notice at the time but you could clearly see on the video that Colin already had his wand out in his hand. Then we walked away and out toward the pantry._

_How could I have been so stupid? Of course, this is a prison, isn't it, really? They have cameras everywhere even if we can't see them._

_Snape was furious, of course. He wanted me to explain. All manner of lies came into my head but, in the end, I just told the truth. It was just like the night when the police had come to ask about the house. Somehow I knew things would be much worse if I lied. I think I must have remembered my father telling me that many years ago._

_Of course, Snape didn't believe me and that made him even more furious. He told me there was no such thing as magic. Of course, none of the videos showed any of our successful spells. I shouldn't expect they would have wanted to show us those. I said again that there was. Snape went really crazy then. His cheeks went so red on his horribly pale skin that it was like he was bleeding. He told me I was a worthless, lying, brat of a girl. Then he went off on a long religious speech about how sorcery was always the mark of Satan and that I was trying to do the devil's work for him. I told him it wasn't true but he no longer seemed interested in anything I was saying so finally I just shut up._

_After he had finished shouting at me, he seemed to go very weak and pale and I had the feeling he'd overdone it. I certainly wouldn't have felt sorry if he'd gotten a heart attack and died at his desk but unfortunately he seemed to recover a few moments later. Then he went all calm and told me that there was still one way I could save myself: I could tell him who the other students were in the group._

_I think I must have looked very blank then. Snape said something about me being as witless as I was insolent. He showed me the video of the group in the kitchen again and that was the first time I noticed: it picked up Colin, Dean, and I very clearly. Lavender and Dennis had their backs turned, however, and Arabella was completely hidden behind one of the large trays they keep the dishes on. Apparently, they don't have a camera in the pantry, let alone the storage room. It was obvious from the picture we were talking to others, though, and Snape didn't know who they were._

_First the first time this week, I began to feel hopeful. Perhaps not all of the others would have to pay a price for my stupidity after all._

_But now Snape wanted me to tell him. And that was something I was sure I wasn't going to do. And I told him so._

_He went really berserk then. He knocked something over on his desk and I think he broke it. He ran over to me and started screaming in my face. I felt sure he was going to hit me and I had prepared myself for it but at the last minute, he backed away and went back behind his desk. Then, a little more calmly again, he told me that I had three days to reconsider his offer. If I didn't come forward with any more names in that time, they would call in my parents._

_26 November 1996_

_It's been the worst three days of my life. Catherine says I'm taking it very well, although she doesn't really understand what's happened. She doesn't even know about the magic. It's best if she doesn't. It could only make things worse for her at the school if I told her anything. I haven't told Lavender about what happened in Snape's office, of course, although she obviously knows that I'm in trouble and she's not._

_I've wiped all the names of the other students out of my diary in black marker so that even if they find it and take it off me, they won't know who they are. I'm also keeping it on me at all times. That way if they search my room they won't find it. I know it's really very dangerous to be writing it at all but somehow I feel that if didn't, I'd lose a part of myself, especially now._

_Snape hasn't been to see me again but some of the nuns have. Sister Barnes went off on a long riff about how God could never pardon me my sins if I continued to be so recalcitrant. The only chance I had to rescue myself from hell was to turn over the names of my accomplices to Snape. If I didn't do so, she said, I was stopping the school from helping to save their souls from the "poisonous stain of being called by Lucifer to do his work." I still refused to tell her. She kept getting more and more angry and repeated the same speech over and over again. Finally, I lost my patience and told her that if God was so clever, he could figure it out by himself and didn't need the school's help. Sister Barnes went a very light shade of indigo then and told me that bringing my parents here was the first step in having me expelled. She then finished with another very false smile and said that she would pray every night that I might be spared the fate awaiting me in a state-run juvenile prison._

_Of course, she hasn't been the only one. Most of the nuns have made little snide comments in their lessons. Sister Trent came up to me in the library and whispered in my ear like a maddening mosquito that I'd better reconsider. The worst of all, I think, was Sister Owens who came to my room one night and sobbed about how I really had a good soul, even though none of the other nuns could see it, but that it would all be lost to Satan if I didn't turn around and confess the names of the other students to Snape._

_The three days were up today. No one came to talk to me funnily. Filch gave me a letter at tea. It was from Snape, of course. It told me my parents had already been called and that they would be arriving at the school on Saturday afternoon. He also told me that another nun had been called in from outside, one who dealt with severe cases such as mine, and that she would speak first to Mum and Dad and then to me._

_I can't imagine how horrible Mum and Dad must feel. Of course, they won't let them talk to me until they get here and Snape and this other nun, whoever she was, has chatted with them first._

_I was supposed to leave the school after this year but, of course, I expect they'll reconsider that now. Worse, there's probably a good chance I'll be expelled. As much as I hate this place, I'm sure Sister Barnes was right about one thing: the alternatives might be much worse. She didn't say it but since I'm seventeen now, they could easily put me in an adult prison._

_The truth is that there have been times this week when I've sat back in my bed and thought about how easy it would be just to give in to them. But whenever that happens, their faces come into my mind - Arabella's especially, since I feel so responsible; Dennis, who seems to have never gotten on well here; and even Lavender, even though she got herself into this in the first place, and even though I've never really liked her very much. It doesn't matter what they do to me; I'm not going to turn them in. Not ever._

Hermione closed the cover of the diary and stared mutely at the book. She was not sure how long her mind had been lost in a blank state when she heard footsteps outside the door and saw the handle slowly turning open. She hurriedly returned to her senses and stuffed her diary back into the inside pocket of her sweater.

Snape swept in noiselessly. He was followed by her parents, whose reactions were much more demonstrative.

"Oh, Hermione, dear!"

Her mother reached across the table and grabbed her into a close embrace, her demeanor losing all of the coldness it had shown toward Snape.

Hermione suddenly felt like a small girl again whose mother had finally arrived to make things all better. She had grown up in a very tactile family and the long absence of human touch in her daily life at St. Brutus's was keenly felt now that it was present again. Held tightly in her mother's arms, Hermione sensed the mental defenses she was forced to thrust around herself every day swiftly collapse. Tears flowed swiftly down her cheeks and into her mother's blouse.

"I'm sorry, Mum!" she cried. "I'm so sorry!"

They held each other for a long time. Then Hermione quickly rubbed the tears away from her eyes, only to fall into her father's embrace and begin crying again.

"Don't cry, bright eyes," he whispered very quietly into her ear. "Everything's going to be all right."

But when Hermione moved out of her father's arms and looked at him properly, she could see that his eyes told a very different story. He was deeply worried. Looking across at her mother, she was shocked to see how much older she looked, even though she had only seen her for a short time just that summer. She was about to say something again when she suddenly noticed that Snape was still standing in a corner of the room. Still sobbing, her defenses completely down, Hermione locked eyes for a brief moment with the headmaster. A strange, angry intensity seemed to fill Snape's eyes at that moment, different somehow from the almost planned rage he had inflicted on her in their last confrontation in his office. It was as though Snape's spite had suddenly taken on a human quality it had seemed until now to have been missing.

What exactly Snape was spiteful about Hermione was no nearer to wondering when her mother rounded on the headmaster. Regaining every bit of the diffident tone with which Hermione herself had faced him a few days before, she said:

"I believe we have the right to see our daughter in private."

"As you wish." Snape glided quickly out of the room.

As soon as the door was closed, Hermione turned to her parents again.

"Mum, Dad, I - I wasn't really doing devil worship. I didn't mean to - "

Hermione's voice trailed off in another choked sob. She felt so helpless. How could she even begin to persuade her parents that she had been meeting with a group of students to do magic tricks, much less that she could practice magic herself. The irony was that, as willing as her parents were willing to take her side unconditionally, they were even further away from the world into which she was beginning to enter than the nuns, for whom the supernatural was an everyday affair.

"Listen, Hermione," said her mother, putting a protective arm around her shoulder. "There's nothing you have to explain. Your father and I both know that all of this is absolute nonsense. To think that our tax money goes to a beastly place like this! Next they'll be organizing witch hunts. It's positively medieval."

"Oh, Mum, I can't think of anything more I want than to leave this wretched school!" Hermione cried desperately.

"And you will, darling," said her father, putting a reassuring hand on her other shoulder, but still looking just as worried as ever. "Just a few more months here and then you'll be out and this will all be over."

"But what if they find a way to make me stay longer?"

"They won't," said David Granger, his chin firm. "All of this nonsense will clear itself up, you'll see. And then we'll get you into a good university. We'll finally be able to put this all behind us."

Hermione sincerely doubted that any university would accept someone with her past, but she knew how badly her father wanted it to be true and couldn't bear to question his resolve.

Her parents stayed for a little while longer. At her father's suggestion, they talked about other matters: how their garage needed repairs, how the neighbors down the road had a new dog, and so on. There was a time when Hermione would have been deadly bored with the conversation but now she felt grateful for the normalcy of it. It seemed all too soon when the door opened once again and Snape came back into the room.

"Your allotted legal time with your daughter has now expired," he announced dispassionately. "Sister is ready to see Miss Granger now."

Hermione's father kept his hand on her shoulder. "I've been keeping in touch with your uncle," he said, with one defiant eye on Snape. "If they accuse you of doing anything else, you're not to say a word until you've spoken to us."

Hermione gave as assertive a nod as she could muster. Snape held her father's defensive glance and then smiled cruelly as he led Hermione away from the room of quiet repose and out into the hallway that led to his office. He moved his hand to the office door but paused at the last moment.

"Sister is well trained to deal with your sort of case, Miss Granger," he said icily. "I will leave you two alone. There are some things I need to discuss with your parents about the suspension of civil rights in a correctional institution." He opened the door and gestured for Hermione to enter, then nodded brusquely to her, and walked back the way he had come.

Hermione was still thinking about Snape's words as she entered his office. A diminutive woman sat somewhat incongruously behind his desk. Her face was very pale and she had a horrible fat, wide nose which did nothing to overshadow a pair of over-large brown eyes. Hermione had the distinct impression she was in the presence of a frog that had just seen its supper.

"Hello!" the nun said brightly. "You must be Hermione! I've heard all about you, of course. Please take a seat, dear."

"No, thanks," said Hermione stiffly, hoping the nun wouldn't notice the swollen bags under her eyes from where she had been crying. "I'd rather stand."

"Oh, no, dear," replied the nun, not losing her smile or her sickly honey-sweet voice. "That won't do at all. We've far too much to discuss to do this standing up. Now, sit down." She gestured to the chair in front of her.

The nun's eyes did not blink as Hermione stared back at them. She was determined to show a brave face but for some intangible reason, she had the sudden impression she was in the presence of someone far more evil and wicked than anyone else at the school - even Sister Barnes and Headmaster Snape. Without stopping to think of resistance, Hermione found herself sitting down on the chair, just as she had been told.

"That's much better," the nun said slowly, sitting down herself.

"I'm afraid I don't know your name, Sister," said Hermione, surprised at how weak and timid her voice sounded.

"Oh, there's no need to call me Sister, dear. You and I are going to come to know each other very well indeed. We're going to be good friends, you and I, companions on the long road away from Satan and back into the arms of our Lord."

The nun held out her hand to Hermione which she was surprised to see was covered with several garish rings. Then, in a macabre imitation of a smile, she added:

"My name is Dolores."


	8. The Point Of No Return

"Well, I – I – " Ron spluttered. "The map must be faulty or – or something."

"The map doesn't lie, Ron," said Ginny. "You told me that yourself - or don't you remember?"

"Of course, I remember!" Ron retorted, regaining some of his conviction. "Well, I mean, well it has now, hasn't it? I mean – " he pointed up at Janus who was talking to Dumbledore and hadn't seemed to notice them, "he's sitting right there! I can see him and you can see him, can't you?"

Ginny nodded. "Yes, I can see him, Ron, but that doesn't mean he's really there."

Ron's mouth opened slightly and he shook his head back and forth with incredulity. It was a few more moments before he managed to say:

"Well, I don't know about you but I'd rather believe what I can see with my own eyes that what's on a map. Go on, you explain it, then."

Ginny shrugged. "I'm not sure that I can, Ron. I'm just saying that there's something very wrong with this – this whatever he is."

"He can't be a ghost."

Both Ron and Ginny looked over at Harry, seeming surprised to remember he was still sitting there with them.

"Nearly Headless Nick shows up on the map and so does Peeves," Harry continued. "I've seen them on it dozens of times."

"Peeves and Nick really exist," said Ginny thoughtfully, "albeit in a different way than we do. But suppose even though we can see Janus, there's nothing or no one really there, just like the map says. If Hermione were here now, she would remind you that no one can Apparate inside and outside of Hogwarts. Yet each of us saw Janus just appear on the first day of class. What if he wasn't really Apparating at all? What if he – or someone or something – made us all think that he was there, just like they're making us think he's there now?"

"He seems a bit lively for someone who's just a figment of our imaginations," remarked Ron.

"Well," said Harry, still looking thoughtful. "What if he's a sort of spell or – or a memory, like Tom Riddle was?"

Ginny paused for a moment.

"I suppose it's possible. Would Riddle have shown up on the map?"

"As the diary?" said Harry. "I don't suppose so. Fred and George would have noticed, wouldn't they? But later on, when he came out of the diary – I don't know, I suppose."

"Well, before you two manage to convince yourselves that there's no need completing assignments for a teacher who isn't real," said Ron, "I've got a slightly more down to earth explanation."

"Let's hear it then," said Ginny, with only a hint of sarcasm.

"Look, he's a powerful wizard, right?" said Ron. "He trained you in things ordinary wizards and witches can't do, right, Harry?"

"Well, yeah," said Harry, "although he claimed he couldn't do them himself."

Ginny gave the very slightest of snorts which Harry took as meaning that she didn't find Janus' modesty very convincing.

"He can do things other wizards aren't supposed to, like Apparating inside a classroom, or whatever it was he did, right?" Ron went on.

"Yes," conceded Ginny.

"So then what makes you think he doesn't have the magical abilities to make himself not appear on the Marauder's Map, a sort of invisibility from detection?"

"But why?" asked Ginny, "why would he care about whether he appeared on our map?"

"Do you think that no other wizards could make a map like that?" asked Ron. "There could be lots of reasons. Think of it: why is it no one remembers him from the First War? Perhaps he was an undercover agent for the Order. Perhaps he didn't feel it was safe to come out of hiding again until Voldemort was well and truly gone. Someone in his position would need to come up with all sorts of jinxes and charms to make sure that no one could find him."

Harry thought that Ron's argument sounded reasonable. He was a little surprised when Ginny sighed and looked across at her brother sadly.

"I knew you would say something like this," she said.

"Like what?" demanded Ron.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me, no matter what I said, or what I showed you. Don't worry, I'm not taking it personally," Ginny went on as Ron looked about to protest. "I did at first but then I got to thinking, and now I understand. It's not me you won't believe in; it's yourself."

Ron looked completely baffled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You won't accept any explanation that admits that I've been right about the Muggle-borns," Ginny replied, still quietly, but with more emotion, "because you can't bring yourself to believe there's anyone in the world who loves you as much as Hermione."

Even Harry thought that Ginny had made a rather wild intuitive leap and he was about to say so, but Ron got in first.

"I don't believe there's any such person as Hermione because there isn't!" he insisted. "She's the one who's imaginary, not Janus! And if I did have a girlfriend who loved me as much as you say she does, not that I would, but if – "

"There you go again!" cried Ginny, unable to keep her voice down this time. "You just can't get your stubborn head around it, can you? I don't know what it is with you, Ron. Maybe you let the twins' teasing get to you too much when we were younger. You always were a bit of an easy target for them."

"I wasn't – "

"Or maybe it was Mum and Dad, maybe they put too much pressure on you, I don't know but – "

Ron got up from his seat.

"Look, I've given you a perfectly reasonable explanation why Janus isn't on that map. If you don't want to believe it, that's fine! But I don't feel in the mood to sit here and listen to your attempts at amateur psychology, Ginny, so if you two don't mind, as Harry knows, I have a Charms test tomorrow."

But Harry did not seem impressed with Ron's excuse.

"Ron, please stay," he said. "We've got to talk this through. About the map if nothing else. Ginny's worked hard on this and she could be on to something."

But Ron shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he said. He turned around and walked out of the Hall.

* * *

_30 November 1997_  
_I had a funny dream last night. I dreamt I was sitting in a classroom, but not one of the classrooms here. It was a classroom at a school for magic. Instead of trying to stop us from practicing magic, the teachers were actually trying to teach it to us. I was sitting next to this boy with red hair. There was a funny little teacher, like a little elf, who was telling us how to lift a feather with our wands. I kept telling the red-headed boy how to do it but he wasn't listening. Finally, I tried myself and it went sailing through the air._

_Then I woke up and felt much less pleased with myself._

_It's been two days since my parents left. I thought that at least by now, the worst would be over: the anticipation would be gone and whatever it was they were going to do to me would have been done._

_But it hasn't._

_I don't know what Snape told my parents in the end. I haven't seen or heard from them since. I expect he's keeping it from me. He and that nun. _

_She's still here. I can't think why except because of me. I'm still not clear who she is or who sent her. I'm surprised they consider me that important._

_I finally got her surname out of her. I've no intention of calling her Dolores. She might pretend to be my friend but I'm not going to pretend to be hers. Her name is Umbridge – Sister Umbridge, and I can think of no better name for her. She's completely twisted and evil. I can tell it just from talking to her. She tried to talk me into telling her the names of all the students doing magic (and that was a bit of a funny thing, actually, she didn't say students "in the group" like Snape had done). First, she told me that she was trying to lift me out of Satan's grip but that I had to meet her halfway. When I wouldn't answer her then, she came out with all manner of threats: she told me that she had much more authority than Snape did. I could go to hell, of course; she could put me in a prison, she said (and then went on in lurid detail about how I would be roughed up on a daily basis by my fellow inmates just for being intolerably clever); I could be re-tried and spend the rest of youth locked away. The worst thing didn't seem so much what she was saying, though; it was that even when she was describing the worst kind of things, she still kept talking in that horrible sugary-sweet voice. I think I would have been happier if she'd gotten really angry with me instead. It was as if she would have been disappointed if I had agreed with her and was looking forward to inflicting some cruel and awful punishment now that I wasn't._

_But she didn't. In the end, she just told me to go back to my room and study for my lessons. But the horrible smile she had on her face as she said it, I just know she has something awful planned for me and two days on, I still don't know what it is. Of course, that's exactly what she wants me to feel. She wants me to back groveling to her, giving her those other names, brought down just by the horrible not knowing. I won't, of course, but it doesn't make me feel any less anxious._

* * *

Harry didn't see Ron for most of the rest of the evening. He wasn't in the common room when they returned. Harry didn't have much doubt about where he was, though. He stayed with Ginny until she left with Amanda at nine o'clock for an Astronomy lesson. As soon as the portrait hole had swung shut behind them, Harry closed his Charms book and marched up the stairs to the dormitory. He knew that Ron would be the only one in the room as Seamus and Neville were both still studying their Charms downstairs.

Ron didn't look up as Harry entered. Only when Harry sat down silently on his own bed and stared up at his best friend did Ron slowly close his book and meet Harry's gaze. There was a tight, angry, hurt look in both of their eyes and not just a faint hint of a challenge.

"We need to talk," said Harry bluntly, his expression unchanging.

"Agreed."

Ron's quick acquiescence surprised Harry and forced him to pause. He also realized that he had so many things to say he hardly knew where to begin. But he did not expect that Ron would be the first to speak and found himself surprised again when he did:

"You don't think I'm being fair to Ginny, do you? You think I'm being stubborn, narrow-minded, and inconsiderate. You think I'm hurting her and abandoning you. And that makes you angry. How am I doing so far?"

"Well, yeah, I – "

"Listen to me carefully, Harry," said Ron, leaning forward, eyes first. "You're not the only person in this world who cares about Ginny."

"I didn't say I was!"

"But you're acting like it. I know you, Harry. To you, Ginny is the poor little girl who no one believes. But you want to believe her; you want to rescue her. I've watched you all term, Harry. You've grasped at the flimsiest of straws just to find any way that you could manage to believe that what she is saying is true. But there's one person you've done a very poor job protecting her from – herself."

"If there's anyone who sees her as a poor little girl, Ron, it's you! You don't take anything she says seriously. Even when Dumbledore – "

"Harry, do you know how hard it's been for me the last few months? I knew from the first bloody day she walked down into breakfast and started talking about her imaginary friends that she had been put under a very nasty hex. Fine, I thought, what we have to do is go to Madam Pomfrey and get the counter curse. Then, when that didn't work, I wanted to take her to St. Mungo's or at least owl Mum and Dad. But Dumbledore wouldn't let me. Think about it, Harry. Think about it very carefully. He wouldn't even let me tell our own parents that their daughter was in serious trouble. But what did you do, Harry, you trusted him. You trusted him even after all the times he's manipulated us and nearly got us killed. But do you know what the stupidest thing is of all? I've trusted him, too. I still haven't owled Mum and Dad even though it's been months since Dumbledore sent us those letters and nothing's changed. And now I don't know what to do. Do you know why I'm avoiding my own sister, Harry? Because it kills me to see her hurting like this every single day."

Harry stared back at his best friend, feeling all the color drain from his cheeks and all the anger flee his heart. He wasn't at all sure what to say.

At Harry's silence, Ron lowered his head, a pained frown crossing his freckled features.

"Look, Harry, I don't want to get in another fight with you about Ginny. We crossed that bridge before and I don't want to ever go there again. I know that you love her and I couldn't be more happy, really. You want me to consider that she might be right? It may surprise you to know this, Harry, but I have. But I want you to consider something also. I want you to consider that she might be wrong. Because if there's any chance she is wrong, then neither of us is doing her a favor right now."

Ron looked back up again expecting an answer. Harry tried once again to think of something more to say. But in the end, he found that all he could do was nod.

* * *

Draco Malfoy entered the Room of Requirement silently, shrugging off the uneasy feeling that he had been followed. There was no one who could even remember that the room existed, save for Ginny - and Janus - but they had been given no good reason to look there. No, there was no one who would find him there. All the same...

"You have news, Wormtail?" he said.

A rat that had been scurrying along the far wall transfigured into Wormtail's human form, crouched and groveling. He let out a small whimper.

"You needn't be frightened of me, Wormtail," said Malfoy, with just a slight edge of impatience to his voice. "Your recent news has been of great use. It has complicated matters to be sure, but it would have been far worse if we had not found out. You have done well. But I will grow impatient if you do not quickly explain why you have called me here. If it is bad news you have for me, it is best you get it over with now."

Wormtail whimpered again but managed to follow with an explanation.

"I cannot say for sure whether or not the news is bad, my Lord. The exchange mirror has just appeared in the corner of the room."

Wormtail walked over to a corner and produced a large cracked mirror set in a tarnished silver frame. Wheezing with effort, he managed to carry it over to a large table at the room's center.

"Levitate the mirror to where I can see it, Wormtail, or have you lost the use of your magical abilities?"

Wormtail charmed the mirror to hover just above the desk at the height of Malfoy's head. Malfoy took out his own wand and aimed it at the mirror's center.

"_Communicatas_. Speak to me quickly. Both of us have more important matters to attend to. I know it is you."

The mirror glowed briefly green and the head of Dolores Umbridge appeared at its center. She was surrounded by a black background not unlike the dark room in which Malfoy now stood, as though Malfoy had looked in the mirror and found a different reflection staring back at him. Malfoy noted, without any special concern, that Umbridge looked unusually drawn and haggard. Her face seemed infused with a mixture of fatigue and fear. Her mousey-brown hair was pressed down on her head, the result of the disguise she had been forced to wear. But her eyes were as large as ever.

"We have a problem."

"I would hope so," said Malfoy, taking a patronizing tone. "I would be very angry if you had called me now for a less urgent reason."

"Perhaps it would do you well to appreciate my help," replied Umbridge in her most simpering voice. "I have risked a great deal to cross the gateway again and give you this message."

"You have risked nothing, _Dolores_. The part of the gateway from which you have crossed has long been made stable, as you are well aware. The way you talk, one would think you had crossed from beyond the veil itself. In any case, Lord Voldemort does not appreciate. He only commands. You would do well to remember that. Or perhaps you would like to return to being a worthless disgrace, betrayed by the Ministry you served so nobly for so many years?"

A flash of color smeared itself across Umbridge's cheeks, causing her complexion to appear even more blotchy than normal. She swallowed and the color faded a bit.

"There has been a problem at the school," she reported. "The Granger girl has done some magic. Worse, she has led a group of the other mudbloods to practice with her."

"And what actions have you taken?"

"The girls' parents were called. She has been threatened with expulsion."

"And?"

Umbridge hesitated.

"There is a further complication."

Malfoy sighed. "Tell me."

"We have been hampered by the inferiority of the Muggle eckel-tronic pseudo-magic. We do not know exactly who is in her group and she will not tell us. What is more, I fear that the memory charm has worked even less successfully at St. Brutus's than it has at Hogwarts. The unstable environment has no doubt hampered it. Many of the mudbloods' memories still exist in their latent thoughts. We even recorded the Thomas boy casting a spell."

"What about Snape?"

"He still knows nothing. I destroyed all of the tapes that showed the mudbloods actually doing magic."

"Are you sure about that?"

Umbridge leaned her face in closer to the mirror. "_Quite _sure."

Malfoy paused for a moment. "What do you propose to do about this then? When I agreed to give you the honor to serve me, I was under the impression that you had something of a mind to use. I could have put any fool under the Imperius or had his memory erased."

Umbridge flushed angrily again for a moment but then quickly continued.

"The Granger girl won't come round. She's as stubborn as ever, I can see that. We have to use another memory charm. End this charade right now. Perhaps if we keep doing it, we'll eventually get it right. Then they won't think to do magic in the first place."

"The memory charm has its risks. Wormtail has nearly ruined everything here with two of his blunders." Malfoy carried on, ignoring a plaintive moan from the corner of the room. "And I cannot afford to spare him for you this time. If any such clues are left at St. Brutus's, Snape will be sure to find them and he can do much more damage than Granger."

"Then allow me to put the girl under the Imperius."

"Even riskier. Potter has resisted it; he might have taught her in the past. When pressed, part of her still might remember. And then she will know you are a witch. No," Malfoy finished, with a cruel smile that would have belonged equally well on his mouth or Voldemort's. "You do not know Hermione Granger as I do. She is not a coward but she can be broken. Her weakness is in her loyalty to her friends."

"And how do you wish me to take advantage of this weakness?"

Malfoy smiled again. "I will leave that up to your imagination."

"Very well," said Umbridge, studying Malfoy closely, "but if this does not work, we will have no choice to apply the memory charm once more."

Malfoy's lips tightened. "I will thank you to leave the choices to me, Dolores. Once I served you as a child but I am not that child anymore. I have the mind of the most powerful and brilliant wizard in the history of our kind inside my head."

"Your mind is not in question, Mr. Malfoy, but whether or not you are still a child very much remains to be seen."

Umbridge's face disappeared from the mirror and with it all light from the room. The only sound was a protracted whine from the mouth of Wormtail.

But Malfoy was not in any mood to deal with Wormtail, one way or the other. There were far more urgent matters at hand. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he quickly strode out of the room.

* * *

The weather was slightly warmer than normal as the first day of December fell on the Hogwarts grounds. But far from making things pleasant, it only meant that instead of the usual snow, a hard, cold driving rain was falling. The Gryffindor Quidditch team had managed to hold practice during a break in the showers. Ginny and Harry had stayed behind later, however, on the pretext of helping Ginny practice her passes but, in reality, to talk about Janus and the Marauder's Map. They had been walking back to the castle, still deep in conversation, when they were caught in a sudden downpour and forced to find shelter under the beech tree at the edge of the lake. They sat together on the ground underneath the large protective branches, waiting for the rain to stop.

Ginny had leaned back comfortably into Harry's arms. She continued to talk incessantly about Janus. Harry, however, found himself only half-listening, just as his mind had only been half-focused during the team practice. He was much more worried about Ginny than Janus, worries that Ron had rekindled the previous night. He knew that he should be discussing those worries openly with his girlfriend. He also knew that sitting together like this alone in the rain, he had the perfect opportunity to do so, but knowing that and doing it were two different things.

"Still, this was good," Ginny was saying. "We still don't know exactly what's going on but we're getting a little nearer."

"Yeah," said Harry vacantly.

"If only we could persuade Ron to understand. It's doubly hard trying to solve this mystery and fight him as well. I – "

Ginny stopped herself and looked up quizzically at Harry.

"Have you talked to Ron, by the way, I mean, apart from at practice?"

"Yes, Ginny, actually, I have and – "

Harry found himself at a sudden loss for words. He lowered his head slightly, not meeting Ginny's eyes. She wound herself out of his grasp and studied him closely.

"Harry?" she said questioningly. "There's something wrong, isn't there?"

Harry managed only a non-committal grunt but it seemed to speak worlds to Ginny.

"Y – you have talked to Ron," she said, looking down herself to catch his eyes, as if in doing so she could read his mind. "And you're starting to have doubts about me – about whether what I'm saying is true," she said slowly. "You're not – you're not sure you believe me anymore."

Harry looked up suddenly.

"I didn't say that," he said.

"But is that what you were thinking?" Ginny asked, running her thumb gently down the side of his cheek.

There was a damning pause.

"Don't lie to me, Harry," said Ginny, feeling creeping into her voice. "I feel like so many things in my life are lies right now. I need you to be true. I don't mind if you don't believe me. If I were you, I wouldn't believe it either. In fact, I'd be just the same as Ron. But don't lie to me."

Harry stared at her for a moment and saw the candor in her eyes. He ran his fingers through the soft, silky strands of her hair.

"I believe you, Ginny," he said.

And he found it was the truth but that still did not quell the anxiousness in Harry's heart.

"But I'm still worried about you. Ron is, too. He just doesn't want to see you hurt."

"I know." Ginny sighed. "I wasn't fair to him last night. I was angry and frustrated. I still think I was right about Hermione but maybe he was more right than any of us about Janus. I think he did put a spell on that map so it couldn't show him. But I think it also helped that he isn't really human, well, not a normal human anyway. A – actually, I think – I think I know who Janus is, Harry. I've suspected for a while now, but I didn't want to say because, well…."

"Go on."

"Well, it's a bit fantastic."

"More fantastic than forgetting half the school?"

"I suppose not but, well, I wanted very badly for you to believe me, Harry, and Ron, too, and I feared that this would make you doubt me even more."

"But you just said – "

Ginny nodded. "I know. I want you to be truthful to me more but I still want you to believe me." She smiled. "Girls are funny sometimes, Harry."

Harry smiled, too, and playfully rubbed the top of Ginny's nose. "I can take you being funny. Now, let's hear the idea."

"OK." Ginny licked her lips. "Do you remember Hagrid telling us about that old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, the one when he was a student? The one who put the memory charm on the school, the one who was close to Tom, to Voldemort?"

"Yeah?"

"I think Janus is him."

"What?"

"I warned you it was fantastic."

"B – but, Ginny, Janus can't be any older than thirty. If that Defense teacher was still alive now, he would be, well, at least eighty."

"When Riddle left school, he did all sorts of dark magic to make himself more powerful and try to gain immortality. What's to say Janus couldn't have done that, too? What's to say they weren't together? The Death Eaters now might not know, certainly not Malfoy. Besides, I don't think it's his real face. Have you ever looked at it closely?"

"Well, I suppose not."

"It's too, well, perfect, I suppose. The chin is at a perfectly straight angle; his beard is perfectly cropped. He has no scars or pimples on his face at all."

"I didn't know you noticed," said Harry, looking slightly put out.

"Oh, Harry, I'm not attracted to perfect." Ginny ran her hand through Harry's untidy hair to make her point. "I mean it's not a natural face. And I'll bet nothing about him is natural. He's used magic to change himself so that he's not really human at all. But he's not a ghost either. He's something else, something that's become so twisted, it can't even be a thing that will show up on that map."

Harry nodded for a moment but then frowned.

"There's only one problem with that idea, Ginny. The teacher Hagrid described was obviously evil."

"And?"

"I don't think Janus is evil at all. I think he's here to help us."

Ginny caught her breath. "But, Harry, how can you think that? He's been hiding the truth all term!"

"Perhaps he doesn't have a choice," said Harry thoughtfully.

"And what he said to Malfoy?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I can't explain it. I just have a feeling. Maybe I'm wrong."

Ginny looked thoughtful herself for a moment and then reached her hand out in front of her.

"It's stopped raining," she said. "Do you want to go in? We can keep talking at supper if we get a seat near the end again."

Ginny moved to get up but Harry grabbed onto her waist and pulled her back.

"Hey!" cried Ginny, giggling in surprise.

Harry pulled Ginny close to his ear and whispered into it:

"Let's take a break from Professor Janus, shall we?"

"Oh, but, Harry, I'm cold and – "

Ginny stopped talking as Harry cast a warming charm over the inside of his cloak and moved her inside of it.

"You were saying?" he said softly.

"A – and I'm hungry and we'll miss supper."

Harry didn't respond. Instead, he held out his wand again at a patch on the ground just in front of them. He seemed to be concentrating hard and Ginny remained quiet.

_"Albreus."_

Ginny gasped in surprise as a picnic of warm loaves of bread, plates, knives, and forks, and a mouth-watering bowl of steak and kidney pie appeared in front of them.

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed in surprise.

"It's the first time I've made it work actually," said Harry apologetically, "and it's not very much; you can only get about one spell like that out – "

But Ginny did not seem to be listening.

"Where did you learn to conjure this? Is that what Professor Janus has been teaching you in your lessons? Defeat Death Eaters by bribing them with a delicious dinner? No wonder you think he's on our side."

"No," said Harry, smiling. "N.E.W.T. Charms. You'll learn it."

"A good thing Flitwick hasn't disappeared."

Harry leaned closer to Ginny again. "Any more excuses?"

Ginny didn't answer. She turned herself around to face Harry and drew the front side of his cloak around her back. She felt her breath quicken as her cold cheek touched Harry's warm one. She leaned in closer to his face and softly kissed him. They held the kiss and each other's arms for a long time, losing all sense of who and when they were. When they finally released, neither spoke, their hearts still pounding hard even as they began to dish out the food and start to eat.

"I hope not talking about Janus hasn't robbed us of all dinner conversation," said Harry finally, feeding a spoonful of pie to Ginny.

"I'm still thinking about our kiss," said Ginny very quietly.

Harry and Ginny shared puppy dog smiles. Neither spoke again for a few more moments. Then Ginny said:

"What would you like to talk about then?"

"Let's talk about you," said Harry softly.

"What's there to talk about? I told you all my secrets last summer."

"Perhaps I've lost my memory of them," said Harry deviously.

Ginny chuckled in kind.

The conversation began slowly but once it had started, it seemed that Ginny had a great many memories that she had not yet shared with Harry. Soon both were laughing about Ginny's – and Ron's – childhood exploits. The supper was finished, night descended in earnest, and the rain began to fall again, eventually turning to snow. Harry cast several more warming charms to keep his cloak heated, however, and neither noticed the time or the cold until Ginny let out a tremendous yawn and then another.

"Sleepy?"

"I - I suppose I haven't really slept well in ages," said Ginny, her eyes watering with fatigue. "I just keep worrying that if I fall asleep, I'll wake up and someone else will disappear."

"You can sleep now," Harry whispered into her ear.

"Oh, no, Harry!" Ginny said aloud. "I – I haven't looked at any spell books for any of tomorrow's lessons yet."

But Harry drew her closer still.

"You don't need to look at any spell books and no one is going to disappear," he said, almost hypnotically. "You're safe here with me."

Ginny did not protest again. She allowed Harry to gently run his fingers through her hair and settled her head on his chest. Within seconds, she had fallen asleep.

Harry exhaled a breath he had not known that he had been holding. He watched Ginny's chest slowly rise and fall in time with her breath. The lines of worry on her face slowly began to disappear. Harry wished he could make them go away so easily for her when she was awake. He remembered how she had lain sleeping against him the same way that summer and told him she could never have nightmares while she was in his arms. He hoped to all the gods in the wizarding pantheon that Ginny's words would prove true once more.

But this time, he would not get his wish.

Some minutes went past before Ginny's mouth twitched slightly and her forehead creased in a frown. At first, he gently adjusted the position of her head on his chest, hoping that it would ease her discomfort. But Ginny's facial expression remained unchanged.

Harry continued to run her hands through Ginny's hair, hoping it would soothe her, but from the look on her face, she was obviously in another world. Finally, the corner of her mouth opened and she started to make a soft, incoherent murmur.

"Ginny?" said Harry, leaning his head closer to hers.

Ginny murmured again. Harry shifted her head up toward him and, on the third try, he managed to hear what she was saying.

"Leave me alone."

Harry's heart froze in his chest.

"Ginny," he said, loudly and more urgently. "Ginny, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

"Leave me alone!" said Ginny more loudly, but still in sleep. She pushed ineffectually against Harry's chest. "Don't touch me!"

"Ginny!" Harry shouted, grabbing her shoulders now and shaking her. "Ginny, wake up! Please wake up!"

"No!" Ginny protested, her voice now loud but eyes still closed. "Leave me alone, don't touch me, stay away – "

Ginny's eyes snapped suddenly open.

"Ginny!" said Harry, taking hold of her shoulders again and looking into her eyes.

"I SAID 'STAY AWAY!'"

Ginny pushed Harry roughly to the ground and leapt back onto the newly fallen snow.

A deadening silence fell. Harry looked down at his hands as if he had been stung. Ginny continued to stare at him, panting hard, but then recognition passed over her wide-open eyes.

"Harry?" she said.

"Ginny?"

"Oh, Harry!"

Ginny burst into tears and moved back toward Harry's arms, but Harry, his eyes full of surprise and hurt, moved backward until his back hit the trunk of the beech tree.

"No, Harry!" cried Ginny. "Please don't – please don't run away from me! I need you!"

Harry's expression softened quickly and he reached forward to embrace Ginny.

"Ginny, you were having a nightmare."

"I – I – k-know, H-H-Harry," she sobbed into his shoulder. "I-I-I - th-thank you for w-w-waking me up."

"Ginny, tell me what happened," asked Harry, heavy concern in his voice.

"No, Harry! Please n-n-no! Please don't make me say. Please!"

"All right, Ginny, all right. It's all right." He held onto her very tightly as she continued to cry. "You're all right, now. You're with me. It was just a dream."

But in his heart, Harry was not at all sure that it was all right. Suddenly, there was a voice in his head, a voice much louder than even the loudest of Ginny's wails.

Do you know why I'm avoiding my own sister, Harry? Because it kills me to see her hurting like this every single day!

Harry understood, perhaps for the first time, that Ron had been right. Not, perhaps, about whether their memories of Muggle-borns at Hogwarts had truly been erased but when he had reminded him how much Ginny was hurting. Harry could now see that even after he had taken her side, promised to help her solve this mystery, and given her all the emotional support he could, she was still hurting. And Harry realized, as he now knew he should have long before, that there was only one way that Ginny's suffering could end.

And he no longer cared at what price it came.

Harry waited until Ginny's cries had slowed into sobs before leaning his mouth close to her ear once more.

"Come on," he said. "We're going to see Dumbledore – now."

* * *

For the third time since Hermione had walked out onto the playground, she looked behind her shoulder only to find nothing and no one untoward behind her. She then dug her nails into her palms so fiercely it hurt, but she had to remind herself that if she saw shadows everywhere she walked then she was behaving exactly as Dolores Umbridge hoped she would. Hermione was determined not to be afraid or, at the very least, to master her fear. If she could do that, then Dolores Umbridge had no means to harm her.

Hermione continued to walk up to the netball court where several of the girls her age were playing. Maybe she would join in today. Yes, she decided, forcing her confidence forward, she would. Why not?

"Hermione."

Hermione gasped and jumped as she heard her name called.

"Dean!" she said, swinging around. "Y – you – "

" – startled you," finished Dean, a little more calmly, sitting on the bench beside the court. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but you looked far away."

"I was – I was – " She looked down at Dean properly. "Go away, Dean!" she said. "I can't be seen here talking to you. I'm in terrible trouble. But you won't be if you just get away from me!"

"That's what I needed to talk to you about, Hermione. You haven't said anything to us since your parents visited and no one in the school has come to see us. This concerns everyone who was in the – "

"Keep your voice down!" hissed Hermione, even though Dean had been speaking in a low murmur next to a noisy netball court.

"This concerns everyone who was in the group," said Dean again, in an even lower whisper. "We need to know what's going on and no one is telling us."

"Then you should count yourself lucky!" Hermione whispered back. "I might be expelled but at least you won't be hurt. They're only interested in the ringleader, I think. But if we keep talking – "

"We don't care about that," said a louder, female voice. "If anything happens to you, it should happen to us as well! We were all in this together."

Hermione swung around, half in surprise, half in dismay, to find that Lavender had walked up and sat down next to Dean.

"Lavender, get out of here!" whispered Hermione. "They didn't see you! They didn't catch you on the cameras!"

"There are cameras?" asked Lavender, in a normal tone of voice.

"Yes, and you weren't on them. But if they see us talking like this – "

"You and I are roommates. Can't we talk?"

"Dean is not our roommate. They're watching me very closely." Hermione leaned forward and spoke very slowly as if addressing an idiot. "They – will – suspect – everyone – I – talk – to, especially out here."

"Why didn't I show up on their cameras?" asked Lavender suspiciously.

"Because your head is so full of air, it makes you transparent! Now get out of – "

Hermione stopped talking as Dean took hold of her arm. His eyes widened and he pointed her in the direction of the school. Her face filling with a bloodrush of fear, Hermione looked behind to see that Sister Umbridge and Headmaster Snape had left the school and were walking slowly across the playground. As they approached, students looked up from their games. Even though they had presumably never met Umbridge before, and even though she greeted them with her most endearing smile, they picked up their balls and bats and moved quickly away from her. It was as though they could sense they were in the presence of something thoroughly wicked and evil.

But neither Umbridge nor Snape paid them much attention. They continued to walk slowly but inexorably in Hermione's direction.

* * *

Harry led Ginny by the arm through the corridors of the school to Dumbledore's office. He had not bothered to stop and check the time but it was still early enough that students were up and around in the corridors, mostly heading in between the library and their common rooms. Ginny had charmed her face so that it did not seem she had been crying. She continued to lean on Harry, however, and while she seemed to be regaining her strength, she still looked very pale. Harry and Ginny were fortunate not to run into anyone they knew very well, however, and acquaintances were content only to say hello. It would have been obvious to anyone who knew Ginny that something was wrong and neither she nor Harry wanted to face any questions right now.

The corridors thinned as they approached Dumbledore's office. Harry sensed his pulse quicken as they approached the stone gargoyle. He felt Ginny tug anxiously on his arm.

"Harry, we shouldn't do this! Dumbledore said we could all be in danger."

"You are in danger already, Ginny," Harry said firmly. "I'm not going to let this go on."

"Harry! At least wait until morning, I – "

But Harry led her by the elbow up to the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the office.

"I'm sure he's not just going to – "

Ginny was silenced as the gargoyle suddenly and explicably moved aside, revealing the winding staircase upward.

Harry and Ginny exchanged surprised glances.

"I've never seen it do that before," remarked Harry. "Usually someone has to give the password."

Ginny frowned for a moment, remembering how Dumbledore had told her that his office was the only place where he was fairly sure he wasn't being overheard.

"Come on," she said, now tugging Harry forward herself. "I think this means we had better go up quickly."

There was a strange, almost eerie silence as Harry and Ginny ascended the staircase. Harry wasn't sure what sound he had expected to hear but the absence of noise seemed somehow palpable. When the staircase reached the top, the two Gryffindors discovered that Dumbledore's door was slightly ajar. Harry knocked but there was no answer. Then, encouraged by Ginny, they walked in together, still arm in arm.

The office appeared at first glance to be empty. The usual portraits lined the walls, some of their occupants asleep but more than half missing from their posts. To Ginny, there were still a significant number of gaps on the wall from portraits that had disappeared altogether, although this was lost on Harry. He had not walked far into the office, however, when something very curious caught his attention.

Fawkes sat perched on top of his cage, his long red plumage in full brilliance. To his left, on a kind of visitor's perch, Harry decided, was his own Hedwig. On seeing Harry, she immediately flew over and perched on his forearm, nipping his hand affectionately.

"Hello," said Harry. "What are you doing here, then?"

"Harry, look!" said Ginny.

Harry followed her gaze to a corner of the office and found that Hedwig was not the only thing that didn't belong there. Standing on two claw feet and surrounded by a gold frame and a very familiar set of inscriptions was a very large mirror, a mirror that Harry had seen many years before and well remembered. The mirror was as high as a classroom ceiling and the corner of the office had been magically enlarged to gigantic proportions to accommodate it.

"Is that - " Ginny began.

"The Mirror of Erised." Harry frowned. "But what's it doing here?"

Ginny walked closer to the mirror, her eyes very wide.

"Harry," she said. "I can – I can see them standing here together with us. I can see Hermione, and Dean, and – and – "

Ginny swung around but saw only Harry standing behind her. Concerned, he reached over and took hold of her arm again.

"Don't look too long at it, Ginny. It can be – absorbing."

But Ginny found her attention returning to the mirror. She pulled Harry nearer.

"Can't you see them?" she asked him.

"I'm sorry, Ginny, but I only see you and I, except – " Harry frowned. "There's something different. I can't – " Comprehension slowly dawned on his features. "My scar – it's not there. I can see us – just us, you and I, just as we are – except I haven't got my scar."

"But I can still see it," said Ginny.

Both Harry and Ginny continued to look into the mirror. Hedwig, who was still perched on Harry's arm, began to fly around and squawk loudly.

"What is it?" Harry asked her, tearing his eyes away from the mirror.

Hedwig flew over to the door and began moving up and down in circles around it.

Still frowning, Harry walked over and pushed the door shut.

"Thank you, Harry," said a voice. "And Harry's right, Ginny. You should move away from the mirror. It can be habit-forming."

Harry and Ginny both looked up to see Dumbledore walking down toward them from the small tower which formed an upper level to his office.

"It's a dangerous thing to be sure," Dumbledore added. "But one which can have its uses. And at times like this, one can take all the help one can get." He reached over, touched the side of the mirror, and then swiveled his head to peer into it as one might look around a corner. Harry found himself very curious indeed as to what Dumbledore himself saw in the mirror.

"Yes," he said nodding, apparently to himself. "I thought so."

Whatever it was that Dumbledore thought, neither Ginny nor Harry discovered. He quickly turned away from the mirror and motioned them to follow him to his desk. He stood facing them for a silent moment, then gestured his arms widely, smiled a slightly sad and tired smile, and said:

"Now, what can I do for you, my friends?"

Ginny and Harry exchanged a quick but worried glance. The headmaster's demeanor seemed to show little of the paranoid fear Ginny had witnessed at their last meeting but both his expression and choice of words suggested he was still far from his usual self.

Harry cleared his throat.

"Professor Dumbledore," he said. "I know you are trying to protect us but Ginny is hurting. I need to ask that you tell us exactly what is going on."

Dumbledore looked back at Harry and, for a brief moment, the twinkle that had been absent from his eyes since the last time the three of them had sat together in his office returned. Then the headmaster sat down at his desk and motioned Harry and Ginny to do the same. He sighed again and suddenly looked very weary indeed.

"I must beg your forgiveness," he said. "Both of you. The last time you came to my office together, I can truthfully say that I was as ignorant as a child of the danger facing all of us. I am not proud to have been so unprepared but that cannot change the facts. Once I realized what was happening, I tried to put as much distance between us as possible. I knew that we could be heard and although I am fairly sure that this office remains free of surveillance, it would have seemed very damning indeed if you were observed walking in here and talking to me."

Dumbledore paused and looked down at his desk, then up and Harry and Ginny again, his eyes regaining some of their fear.

"But I'm afraid it's too late for that now. He has found out what I know. And I am afraid that very shortly I will disappear, too, and no one will remember me except you, Ginny. And even knowing that, I'm afraid I kept putting off the moment when I would have to tell you, whether for noble or selfish reasons I can no longer say for sure. I fear that had I not seen the two of you walking here on my friend glass, I would not have taken the initiative to call you. But in my heart of hearts I know that my only chance – the only chance for any of us - is for me to tell you everything I know. It will endanger you both, I've no doubt, but this has become something much bigger than any one of us."

There was a very pregnant pause in the conversation. Harry suddenly found it difficult to catch his own breath. He looked across to Ginny and couldn't help thinking that while he had come into this office to relieve her of a burden, she would leave it bearing a far greater albatross. Yet at the same time, Harry found he could not bear not knowing any longer and he could see from the look on Ginny's face that she felt the same.

"We don't know who or what Professor Janus is, sir," Ginny said, "but we know that he's threatening you. If you can tell us exactly what's happened, then we have the best possible chance of stopping him."

Dumbledore smiled again and looked back and forth between Ginny and Harry, his eyes full of pride, but his mouth slightly askance in an ironic smile.

"You have both done remarkably well, as always, in addressing this mystery. For it is a mystery, albeit one of the most terrifying kind. But I'm afraid I must correct you on one point: Professor Janus is not our enemy."

Harry watched as Ginny's jaw dropped and he expected his face wore a similar expression of surprise. At the same time, however, he felt something release in his heart. For reasons he could not be sure of, Harry had not wanted Janus to be their enemy and he was very glad to hear that he was not.

"B – but," Ginny protested, "surely all this started when he arrived?"

"Not quite, Ginny. As you yourself will recall, the Muggle-borns disappeared just before Professor Janus took up his post."

"But he knows they're gone! He all but admitted it to Harry!"

"Yes, he does know," agreed Dumbledore. "And a very good thing, too. Without his counsel, I would have understood very little for as I told you before, I remember nothing of the Muggle-borns myself."

But Ginny seemed no closer to being persuaded.

"But how? A – and, well, he's not – he's not normal, is he? He can Apparate into classrooms, the ghosts are terrified of him, and he doesn't even show up on the Marauder's Map! And that day when I heard him talking to Malfoy – "

Dumbledore continued to nod.

"Right on all counts, Ginny," he said. "As I said before, your investigation has been very clever. Professor Janus is, indeed, not a normal wizard. As for his conversation with Mr. Malfoy, that was perhaps something of a ruse, though, at the same time, I fear he might have made good on his ill-considered offer if Draco had truly left the Death Eaters. And as for my working for him, I'm afraid that might as well be true, too. It is certainly not the other way round. He has always been a bit headstrong."

Ginny looked over at Harry in disbelief. Dumbledore made Janus sound a cantankerous but lovable pet, rather than a fearsome enemy. But she was still not convinced.

"But that day in the corridor!" she went on. "Forgive me, sir, but you seemed absolutely terrified as soon as I mentioned him!"

Dumbledore raised his index finger.

"I do not deny it," he said. "Professor Janus very much terrifies me, as nothing has terrified me for as long as I can remember. But what terrifies me is not who Professor Janus is, it is what Professor Janus is. For you see, Professor Janus is not a thing that should be – not here, at least. And his being here tells me that things are very wrong indeed, more so than even you have imagined, Ginny."

Ginny finally seemed at a loss for words and so Harry spoke up.

"But then who is it that has taken away everyone's memories and made the Muggle-borns and the others disappear?"

Dumbledore turned to Harry and smiled mirthlessly.

"Voldemort," he said simply.

"Then he's back?" said Ginny, trying unsuccessfully to conceal the fear in her voice.

"Oh, yes." Dumbledore nodded gravely. "He's back."

Ginny and Harry looked at each other for a third time. Each of them seemed to realize that there was one great question left unanswered, the answer of which still seemed to hold the key to the entire mystery. It was Harry again who asked it:

"Sir, then, who and what is Professor Janus?"

Dumbledore fixed Harry squarely in the eye. He paused for a moment, then said:

"I want very much to tell you, Harry, but the answer is not mine to give. In spite of everything that has happened, I must still, in all fairness, leave that task to Professor Janus himself.

"I would like you to go to his office now, Harry," Dumbledore added, as Harry seemed on the point of protesting. "Even at this hour, I am confident that you will still find him there. I would like you to deliver a message to him from me and it is important that you give it to him very precisely: you must tell him that if he is anything of the man he once was, he will tell you exactly who he is – tonight. Is that understood?"

Harry nodded. Without another word, both he and Ginny got to their feet, but Dumbledore shook his head.

"I must ask you to go alone, I'm afraid, Harry," he said. "You will see why later."

Harry took hold of Ginny's hand.

"I'm not leaving her," he declared.

"Ginny will be very safe here, Harry, you have my word. As I told you, this office is the one place that Voldemort's agents have not yet penetrated. You need only be gone a short while. Once Professor Janus has answered your question, I would like you to return, with him, here. I will open the entrance when I see you coming. In the meantime, I will contact Professor Lupin and we will see about explaining everything to both of you. Is that reasonable?"

Harry didn't answer but looked across at Ginny. She squeezed his hand firmly but nodded.

"I'll be all right, Harry," she said. "Go on."

Harry turned back to Dumbledore and nodded. Then he turned around and left the office. He could not help thinking that by the time he returned, he would see nothing the same way again.

* * *

"Lavender, get out of here!" hissed Hermione again.

"No!" Lavender folded her arms across her chest, still smarting from Hermione's earlier insult. "I'm staying here with you – and Dean!" she added meaningfully.

Hermione was exasperated. Of all the times Lavender could choose to develop some spine, it would have to be this one.

"Maybe if you would not only think of yourself!"

"Think of my – "

"Yes! It's not just you they don't know about! The more people they know are in the group, the more likely they are to find the oth – "

"Hem, hem."

Hermione stopped talking and turned around very slowly to find herself directly underneath the protruding eyes of Dolores Umbridge.

"Do go on, Hermione, dear," she cooed. "I find what you have to say very interesting, indeed. And who do we have here?"

Hermione felt her lunch descend awkwardly into her stomach as Umbridge looked at Dean and Lavender.

"Mr. Thomas, isn't it?" she said. "And even Miss Brown! How very interesting. What do you make of this, Headmaster Snape?"

Snape seemed to be hovering a few steps behind Umbridge, as if he, too, were a little uncomfortable in her presence. Hermione found herself thinking almost kindly on him compared with the evil hag of a nun standing in front of her. But his answer offered her little in the way of comfort.

"Clearly it would seem that our three friends have a great number of things in common," he said malevolently.

Umbridge returned her gaze to the three students. "I think you might be right, headmaster," she said, her eyes full of mock realization.

"Is there something you want with me?" asked Hermione, steeling herself to show courage to this woman.

"Oh, no, dear, not at all. Why ever should you think that? As a matter of fact, the headmaster and I have come to take a few moments of Mr. Thomas's time."

Hermione heard Lavender gasp and felt her blood run cold but she forced herself to stand up and face Umbridge who, even wearing her habit, was several centimeters shorter than Hermione.

"Excuse me," she said, "but I organized this group. If you have a problem, it isn't with them. It's with me."

"It is not for you to decide how the administration of this school conducts its affairs with its own detainees, Miss Granger," Snape remarked coolly.

"Quite so, headmaster," said Umbridge sweetly, her eyes not leaving Hermione's. "But don't worry, Hermione, we will only keep Mr. Thomas a short while, though perhaps it will be long enough for you to reconsider the consequences of your actions – and inactions. Come along, then, Dean."

* * *

The walk between Dumbledore's office and the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom had never seemed so long to Harry as it did now. It was as though someone had magically enlarged the distance. His mind was still reeling from what he had been told in Dumbledore's office. His resolve to protect Ginny notwithstanding, he had never suspected that Dumbledore would tell them the truth so easily. He also found himself, not for the first time, very much envying Ron. Things would seem so much easier if something was wrong with Ginny. It seemed almost impossible to help her now that it seemed almost certain that something was wrong with everything else. Still, whatever it was, at least it seemed they would find it out that night. Harry tried not to think whether that made him feel better or not.

Finally, Harry found himself at the door to Janus' classroom. He half-expected to find it locked but it was open. The classroom was empty and dark but the light from a flickering lantern shone out from the half-open door to Professor Janus' office. The professor was in, it seemed, just as Dumbledore had said that he would be.

Harry walked the length of the classroom briskly, not with the heavy, impatient footsteps of Draco Malfoy but with no less purposeful strides. He got to the office door and was about to knock when Janus called him in by name.

"Come in and sit down, Harry," he said jovially, adjusting the front of a long royal blue hat crowned with a peacock feather.

Harry walked in and did as he was told, then shut the door firmly behind him.

"Shouldn't you be back in Gryffindor Tower by now?" Janus asked. "It must be nearly ten o'clock. I – "

"Professor Dumbledore sent me, sir."

Janus stopped talking and his smile vanished abruptly. There was a long moment of silence during which Harry studied his face, trying to find whether it held the mysteries to his identity as Ginny had seemed to think. There was something a little too perfect about it, Harry thought, now that he stopped to look. He supposed that if he was not indeed a normal wizard, then it was reasonable that he would not have a real face. But then what did he truly look like?

As Harry was studying Janus, it was obvious that Janus was studying him, not his face for the presence or absence of flaws, but his eyes for the hidden intentions beneath them. It was the first time that Harry could ever remember Janus looking afraid.

"And what did Professor Dumbledore send you to say, Harry?" he finally asked.

"Well, he – " Harry looked down, feeling slightly embarrassed. "It sounds a bit awkward, sir, but he said it was important that I told you exactly what he said."

"I'm sure it is, Harry." Janus forced a smile. "Please do so."

Harry forced himself to look back up at Janus. "He said – Professor Dumbledore said, sir, that it was time for you to tell me the truth about who you are. He said that if you were anything of the man you once were, you would tell me straight away. I – I don't know what it means, sir, but – "

"Not to worry, Harry," said Janus, his face now firmly set in a serious frown. "I know exactly what Professor Dumbledore is talking about."

There was another moment of silence. Then Janus leaned back in his chair and let out a deep sigh. He took off his feathered hat and placed it on his desk revealing an uncharacteristically untidy mop of bright blond hair.

"I hope you can forgive me, Harry," he said quietly. "You understand I was protecting you in a way, too, just like Dumbledore was. Still, I – I wonder sometimes whether I would have told you in any case. I'm not sure you would have believed me. I suppose I'm still not sure. A – and I just didn't know what to say. I feel like I abandoned you, Harry."

Janus ignored the bewildered expression on Harry's face and looked down at his hat ruefully.

"I've been a bit of an idiot, I know that," he said. "Dressing up in costumes, playing with swords. But, I – I – I don't know whether you can understand, Harry," he looked back up at Harry again, a pleading look in his eyes. "I – I just – I just wanted to feel alive again."

Harry shook his head.

"I – I'm very sorry, sir," he said, "but I don't think I know what you're talking about."

"No, of course you don't, Harry. But you will. I will show you."

Janus reached into his pocket and took out his wand. Harry tensed, wondering whether Janus was planning to use it on him. But then he remembered when Janus had taught him to fly. He had left himself defenseless then without really knowing the reason. He had trusted Janus and because of that trust, he had discovered an ability he had never known he had. Now, Harry decided, he would trust Janus one more time.

Janus held the wand in front of his body for a moment, then placed it toward his face. He muttered some kind of charm but Harry either did not hear the words or paid no attention to them. Instead, he continued to study Janus' face which began to change before his eyes. Lines of fatigue and age formed themselves on his skin, his blond hair turned dark, and his perfectly cropped beard grew long and mangy. But it was his eyes that struck Harry the most. They were not the inscrutable eyes of Professor Janus. They seemed wider, deeper, and full of feeling. And they still had the haunted look that Harry always remembered in his dreams.

"Dumbledore was right, Harry," said Sirius. "It's time for us to talk."


	9. The Price Of Truth

**Chapter 9**

**The Price of Truth**

Harry's training did not leave him any room for an emotional response. Before he had realized what he was doing, he had stood up, kicked his chair violently to the corner of the office out of the way, and had his wand out and aimed at Janus.

The fabricated eyes of Sirius Black seemed to swirl with clashing eddies of contradictory emotions but the voice that emerged was calm.

"Harry," said Janus, holding his hands out in a gesture of surrender. "I know this is difficult for you to take in, but - "

"No!" bellowed Harry. "Not difficult! Impossible! You're dead! I know, I saw you die!"

"Yes, Harry," said Janus. "I don't deny it. I am dead. Only death is not what you think it is."

But Harry continued to shake his head vigorously.

"I saw you fall through that veil and you didn't come out!"

"No, I didn't, Harry. I couldn't. And believe me - "

Janus paused and swallowed but his eyes still filled with tears.

"Believe me, Harry," he went on in a voice that appeared choked with emotion. "Believe me, if there was any way I could have, I would. I - I knew you would survive, go on, I knew you had it in you but I didn't know - "

"I'M NOT LISTENING TO ANY MORE OF YOUR LIES! I'M COUNTING TO THREE AND IF YOU HAVEN'T CHANGED BACK INTO WHO YOU REALLY ARE, IN THE NAME OF THE GODDESS, I'M GOING TO HEX YOU, DUMBLEDORE BE DAMNED!"

Tears had already started to roll down Janus' cheeks but his mouth curled in an ironic smile that fit far too well for Harry's liking on the face he now wore. He held out his open palms as if showing he had nothing to hide.

"Hex me, then, Harry."

"I said I'm warning you!"

"I said hex me." The smile grew wider. "You aren't afraid, are you?"

"_Immobulus!"_

Before Harry could summon any regrets, the light from his wand struck Janus on the chest. The Defense Against the Dark Arts Master did not flinch, however, but the light seemed to amplify and resonate over his body like whiskey igniting and burning away from a large Christmas pudding. When the light had gone out, Janus continued to stand in place, still with a half-smile on Sirius' face, but apparently unscathed.

"So what!" barked Harry. "I know you're not normal! I just want to know who you _really _are. Dumbledore wants me to believe you're a friend. But I don't see how a friend - "

"Harry, listen to me, please!" said Janus, raising his voice only slightly. "I'm sure if I were you, I'd feel exactly as you do, but I have to find some way to make you understand because this is about much more than just you and me. How do you think I've come back?"

"That's what proves you're a stinking liar!" snapped Harry, still clutching his wand even though he now realized that any hex he threw at Janus would probably be useless. "Sirius can't come back! I've accepted that now; it took me a very long time, but I've accepted that. Sirius never would have left me if he'd had any choice. He wouldn't have done that to me!"

"I didn't have any choice, Harry," said Janus imploringly, emotion starting to stir in his eyes again. "I didn't then but I do now, but only because things have gone very wrong."

"Things were pretty wrong after Sirius died!"

"Listen to me, Harry. Listen to me, please, because we may not have much more time. Voldemort has been playing with forces he doesn't understand. He's manipulated the veil and unleashed a horrible imbalance between our two worlds. I crossed over to help correct that imbalance."

"If crossing over was that easy, then why didn't you do it before?"

Janus frowned. "It's not easy to explain, Harry, if you'll just - "

"THE HELL IT ISN'T! That does it, I'm not standing here listening to any more of these lies! I'm going back to tell my girlfriend that she was right about you: that you're a cheap fake of a fake who can never be trusted, that I was a rotten idiot for ever believing in you! That I should have listened to her when she told me we would have to figure you out by ourselves, because we're certainly not getting any straight answers from anyone else!"

Harry did not want to wait to hear Janus' latest excuse. He tore his head away from the scepter of his late godfather and headed toward the door. He found his path blocked, however, as Janus "re-appeared" in front of the doorway.

Harry aimed his wand back at Janus, forcing down his fear. He knew he was powerless in front of whatever kind of strange dark magic the Defense teacher was using. But he was determined not to budge.

"I didn't say I thought you couldn't do magic tricks!" he cried, his voice now hoarse from all of the shouting. "Get out of my way! Or are you afraid that everyone in this school will know what a lying cheat you are?"

Janus did not respond. He only held out his hand, an oddly solemn, almost pious expression, crossing his face.

"What in Merlin's name is that supposed to mean?" Harry demanded. "Are you challenging me to a duel? I think you might have left your sword with the other pirates!"

"Take my hand, Harry," was the calm response.

"I - "

A witticism formed in Harry's mind but then died on his throat. He looked down at Janus' hand, remembering how once he had used it to pull Harry up from the floor. But this was not the hand of Professor Janus. It was the ghostly white, wiry yet strong hand of his godfather.

"Take my hand, Harry," said Janus again. "If you want to know the truth, take my hand. I can't promise you it will be pleasant but then you will know, then you will begin to see a shadow of the thing that I have become. And I know you're not afraid of the truth."

And there again was that half-ironic, half-shrewd knowing smile that fit so chillingly well on the mask of a face that belonged to Sirius.

"Afraid of yourself, perhaps," Janus finished, "but not afraid of the truth."

Harry wanted to lash out again, to resist Janus' charade before he could believe it long enough to betray himself. But yet again he found his will sinking into a dangerous trust. A trust propelled by a naturally powerful curiosity, to be sure, but also a greater, deeper need, a need that rose from the part of himself that he had managed to suppress even in the company of his closest friends, even when he was alone with Ginny, the part of himself of which Harry was most afraid.

Harry looked one last time into the limpid depths of his godfather's eyes and then grasped hold of his outstretched hand.

_And fell._

_First, he was falling through blackness. Then strange forms and colors started to coalesce around him but none of them took any shape. It seemed that the more Harry tried to grasp some recognizable detail, the more opaque it became. Finally, a round white blur at the edge of his vision swam quickly into focus and Harry found himself looking down on a small sunken chamber. _

_There seemed to be some sort of battle taking place. It seemed for a moment that Harry was rushing headfirst into its center but then he stopped just a few feet above the fray. It was a bit like falling into a pensieve, only Harry wasn't among the combatants, he still seemed to be floating above them. Whatever the case, it was clear the combatants did not see him._

_Harry had barely begun to find his orientation when he realized with a horrible jolt to his heart exactly at what he was looking: he was back at the Department of Mysteries the night that Sirius had died. He could see himself, grabbing hold of Neville's arm and desperately trying to hoist him out of the chamber as the Death Eaters and the Order did furious battle. _

_Still further on, Sirius - the real Sirius - was deep in a pitched battle with his cousin, a battle he seemed to be losing. Harry tried to cry out to him but his voice had no sound. He then tried to move toward him, though how Harry moved he was still not sure. It seemed like he was flying, a little like he had flown with Professor Janus but still different. Harry could feel nothing as he swooped forward and he found he thought nothing of conquering gravity. It was as though he was trapped in an involuntary daydream in which he mastered the skill which he had so labored to acquaint himself with in real life._

_Harry moved closer to Sirius and found himself at the ground level of the combatants. Instinctively ducking from the wand fire that raged all around him, he moved quickly to Sirius' side, determined to stand with him, hoping that he might have been given a second chance to avoid the tragedy unfolding once more in front of his eyes._ _He was vaguely aware that, somewhere nearby, the prophecy had shattered and an ethereal voice was now divulging its contents, unheard above the din. Once level with his godfather, Harry turned around and reached for his wand but he did not seem able to grasp anything. Fear overtook him as he looked across at the masked Death Eater sparring with him, a Death Eater whose wild feral eyes made her appear like a caged animal behind darkened bars. Bellatrix Lestrange - Sirius' assassin._

_Abandoning his search for a wand that no longer seemed to have any feeling, Harry tried again to cry out to Sirius but his godfather, whose face was now inches away from Harry's own, still did not seem to hear him. Both he and Lestrange carried on with the fight as though they could not see Harry at all. From out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw that his other self had moved with Neville further toward the exit. Dumbledore had now entered and had begun to round up the Death Eaters, but the battle between Sirius and Lestrange went ignored - just as Harry remembered it had. _

_Harry winced as a hex flew past - or was it through? - where he was now standing. A horrible premonition suddenly seized him and he looked back to where his other self was standing only to find himself staring over in his direction. They seemed to lock eyes but Harry found he knew almost right away that his younger self was looking not at him but at his godfather behind him. Harry had merely begun to turn around when he heard the ringing of Sirius' voice in his ear, a sound that gave him comfort even as the content of its words inspired terror._

_"Come on," Sirius said tauntingly, "you can do better than that!"_

_Harry did not bother to scream this time. He lunged forward toward his godfather hoping to protect him from the lethal curse that was to follow, prepared even to take it for himself if need be. But instead of colliding with the flesh and bone of Sirius' thin but muscular body, Harry felt an oddly cold sensation, as though he had been plunged headfirst into a tank of cold water. He felt disoriented for a moment and the room seemed to swim in front of his eyes. When he finally refocused, he found he was looking straight across at Lestrange, a wand raised in her steely arms. He looked frantically around for Sirius but could see him nowhere. He was still looking when a sharp pain struck him in the chest like a moving object._

_He looked around in surprise and focused for a moment once again on Lestrange, her wand now falling to her side and her eyes gleaming from a smile of immense satisfaction that was evidently written on her mouth. Then she began to blur as did the chamber around him. The pain in Harry's chest turned quickly into a numbing sensation that spread throughout his body, a body of which Harry suddenly found himself very much aware. A primal scream went up from another corner of the room and Harry saw his younger self trying to rush forward, restrained in the arms of Professor Lupin, whose own face was round in shock. He tried to move forward toward himself but a force - the force of the shot - kept sending him back. Finally, Harry felt himself reach out a hand_ _but it was not his own arm he saw in front of his face but the wiry, bony hand of his godfather._

_And then Harry felt himself falling again. A cool silky fabric caressed his body. He tried to fight it off but once again in vain. He felt himself falling into a great, black sea. The underside of a tattered veil hung on a dais above him. Harry could still see the chamber dimly through its translucent surface before both it and the veil itself disappeared completely._

_Harry felt himself suffocating. Cold black water closed in around him. He tried to swim upwards but couldn't. A horrible aching pain grew out of his lungs like the weaving of a spider's web, then flew with piercing clarity to his head. Harry flung his arms and legs back and forth in a panic. He was certain he could not survive for one more moment, and then..._

_He was falling again. This time through air. Harry took large, grateful gulps of oxygen which cooled the fires of his burning lungs. His vision began to clear and he found himself passing through a film of clouds. When the clouds moved away, the sight he saw captured the air from his lungs once again._

_An enormous, stark rocky brown valley stretched out before him, carved out on each side by enormous heather-strewn peaks rising higher into the skies than the loftiest mountains known to humankind - Muggle or wizard. The valley ahead curled forward and impossibly up into the azure sky ahead, its size and breath beyond anything that humans could conceive in all but the strange lucid depths of a morning dream._

_Harry flew very fast, faster than he could have ever traveled on a broomstick but with the strange feeling that he wasn't moving at all, rather that the ground itself was rushing in a stream below him. The endless brown valley ended suddenly in pastures of a dazzling green. The mountains grew so tall that Harry's head spun, their glacial peaks blending seamlessly with the white puffy clouds overhead. A waterfall sprang out of the mountain shooting outward like a leaky tap, its spray falling slowly to the earth while its mist coalesced before Harry's eyes into the clouds above. The water flowed from somewhere underneath the mountain into a silvery line that stretched through the grass at Harry's feet. A strange bright purple beast, like a rhinoceros that had wandered too near a paint can, lapped at the stream's water. Then other strange beasts came out from the valley around him, covered with colors and spots Harry hadn't known existed. The beasts grew larger and more plentiful as Harry flew further over the meadow._

_And then Harry saw them: people, many people, dressed in robes of brilliant colors just like the animals around them, rushing toward him waving their hands. At first, he thought he would pass over them but then his movement seemed to suddenly slow and he began to move downwards. As he approached the verdant meadow on which the people and animals were standing, he could see the faces of the people more clearly. He wasn't sure why but he felt certain they were wizards and witches like himself. Now that he was nearer them, he could see that most wore stars and crescent moons along the sides of their brilliant robes, not unlike the patterns that Dumbledore frequently wore on his. As Harry began to descend, one man, with a grey, balding head and an ugly but happy-looking face ran toward him. There was something familiar about him although Harry was sure they hadn't met before. Harry felt the cool grass between his toes just as the man touched his hands to his._

_"Is it you?" he exclaimed hoarsely. "B - but so young and..." The man's voice trailed off as he frowned, "...hurt. You have suffered among the mundanes, haven't you?"_

_"The..." Harry began. "I'm sorry, I don't know wh - what you mean - I - I - where am I? What is this place?"_

_A sad look came into the man's eyes. "Don't you know?" he asked. "You're home now, again, with us, here, beyond the gateway?"_

_"The gateway? I - I - "_

_"It _is_ Sirius, isn't it?"_

_Harry's next confused reply died on his lips. He felt as though a light had suddenly shone through the fog in his head. The journey through the veil had not been his. He was seeing through the eyes of Sirius. He looked again at the old man and realized where he had seen him before: his portrait hung at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. He was one of Sirius' relatives, but what was he doing here? And where were they?_

_No sooner had Harry opened his mouth in reply, however, when he heard another voice say:_

_"He won't remember; none of us did, did we? Least of all those of us who were ripped too soon from the pain and pleasures of the flesh."_

_The old man said something back to the newcomer, an acknowledgement of understanding, perhaps, but Harry did not catch it clearly. He was much too absorbed by the newcomer's lanky frame, untidy black hair, and round glasses not unlike his own. He might have been looking into a mirror - or staring at a ghost._

_"Dad?" he croaked._

_But before James Potter could answer, a loud thunderclap, louder than the most frightening of English thunderstorms exploded above Harry's head. He looked up to see a billowing stream of grey clouds moving over the mountains toward them at an incredible pace. Suddenly, the people began to cry out and the animals bleated and roared in alarm. He turned back around only to see their colors begin to bleed impossibly together. Finally, Harry stood alone as a cloud of color began to rise from the ground where the people and animals had stood just a moment before. The last thing he saw was his father bleeding away within them. Before he could cry out himself, the earth shook beneath him and Harry fell awkwardly to the ground. When he sat up and looked ahead again, the scene had changed._

_The people were back now but fewer. The colors of their clothes were dimmer, less brilliant, only as bright as the hues of our waking world. Lines of worry criss-crossed their faces. His father was there again bent over a strange looking machine, like a large boulder that had sprouted wires. A small cloud rose from the machine within which hung a labyrinth of small colored lights like a giant city of fireflies._

_James was not alone this time. A woman stood next to him and she looked worried, too, although the lines of concern seemed out of place on her soft, young face. Long red hair fell thickly down her shoulders. Harry was about to call out Ginny's name when the woman's eyes looked up briefly from the machine and he saw that they were not brown, like Ginny's, but green._

_Like his._

_"Mum!" Harry called, walking forward anxiously. "Dad!"_

_But Lily and James did not seem to hear Harry or notice him there._

_"Can you see him?" asked Lily to James._

_"See who?" cried Harry. "I'm right here!"_

_James shook his head. "He's just a light among them now. I can no more see him than any of the other mundanes."_

_"But what is he doing?" cried Lily, exasperated. "Does he know how close we are? The storms grow worse by the day!"_

_"He must be doing all he can," said James. "We just have to - " His face creased. "There's something coming through again. It's - "_

_James froze and so did Harry. A beam of milky grey light had spun out from the cloud like a thin column of smoke. Before Harry could move, it had wound its way toward him and struck his chest. Something like the stabbing pain he had felt when Lestrange's curse had hit him seized hold of Harry. The grey light spread from his chest and began to cover his entire body, firing prickles of pain wherever it touched. At first, it felt like lying down naked on a bed of stinging nettles but in the next moment, it seemed like the surface of Harry's skin was being slowly burned off._

_"Mum! Dad!" he cried again. "Help me! I'm - I'm on fire!"_

_James peered at the endpoint of the grey smoke far too slowly for Harry's liking. He squinted for a moment and then gasped._

_"Lily, it's not - is it - "_

_Harry's mother let out an enormous gasp and grabbed hold of his father's arm._

_"James, it's Harry! It must be - it - it - James, it's really him, it's Harry! It's our baby Harry!"_

_Harry felt his chest constrict. He tried to call out but the searing pain that had now spread all throughout his body began to intensify. He felt as though he was being slowly fried from inside an oven._

_"He shouldn't be here!" cried James frantically, his hands flying over invisible buttons on the strange device. "What is he doing here?"_

_Lily ignored him._

_"Harry!" she called out in the general direction of the light as if knowing her son was there but not quite able to see him. "Harry, can you hear me?"_

_Harry tried to cry out again but the pain prevented him from forming any words. A primal yell escaped from his chest._

_"James, he's in trouble!"_

_But James was still looking down at the controls, his face red and fuming and his fingers moving back and forth with incredible speed._

_"What the devil is Sirius doing? We've got to get him back there!"_

_James and Lily kept crying out. Soon they were joined by a cacophony of voices from the wizards and witches behind them. But Harry could no longer hear them. His body was blocking everything out but the fire that was raging inside it. The images around him blurred and went black. Finally, when Harry was sure that his body could take no more, when he had even begun to wish for the bliss of nothingness he was certain would follow at the end of his pain, a single authoritative male voice rang out hoarsely in his head:_

"Harry! Harry! HARRY!"

With an uncomfortable ripping sensation, Harry opened his eyes, only to find that the pain that had seemed to scorch his whole body had vanished as quickly as the fantastic surroundings in which he had found himself.

He was on the floor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, his back against Janus' desk. Janus, now returned to his original form (or disguise?), still had hold of his hand. After another moment, Harry became aware of an acute yet more localized pain. There was a funny taste in his mouth. He reached his hand inside and saw blood come away on his fingers.

"I think you bit down on your tongue when you fell backwards against the desk," said Janus, his eyes full of concern. "Here."

He took out his wand and cast a localized healing charm on Harry's tongue. The pain in the back of Harry's head also cleared.

"I should probably take you to see Madam Pomfrey," Janus added anxiously, "but under the circumstances we probably don't have enough time. It was foolish for me to transform in here but under the circumstances..." Janus broke off and sighed, then held out his hand. "Come on. We've got to go and see Dumbledore right away."

But Harry did not take Janus' hand. He found himself completely shattered, as though he had just fought an exhausting battle and lost.

"Wh - what - what happened?" he asked.

"I'll explain, Harry," said Janus patiently, "but not here. Now, please, come along. You still don't trust me?"

Harry took a deep breath. He wasn't sure it could be called trust but he felt too dumbfounded to question anything Janus was saying to him now. He took hold of Janus' hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. Ignoring a pinching pain in his lower back and a smoldering curiosity as to how he had landed on the floor to feel pain in the first place, he stumbled to his feet and dusted his robes off automatically. Janus, for his part, did not stop to wait but led the way quickly out of the office. After only the shortest of pauses, Harry followed.

Harry wanted to think about so many things as Janus led him away from the classroom and down the corridors to Dumbledore's office but could concentrate on none of them. The corridors of the school Harry had walked across for the last six years seemed suddenly unfamiliar, dull and opaque next to the clear brilliance of the exotic dimension within which his mind had just journeyed. He found himself certain that if Janus was not leading the way, he would have been far too absent-minded to navigate the return journey himself. He wondered whether this difficulty was a metaphor for the struggle he would have in returning to his normal life after what he had just seen. A flood of errant emotions ran through Harry as stark yet jumbled as the images he had seen from another place: he was, at once, awed, hopeful, angry - and afraid.

Janus said nothing as they walked. Harry did not doubt that he knew more or less what Harry had seen in his vision and how difficult it had been for him to comprehend. Finally, however, they approached the stone gargoyle which quickly opened once again of its own accord. Janus stepped first onto the winding staircase. The gargoyle closed quickly behind them. As soon as it had done so, Janus took out his wand, muttered his charm, and transformed once again into Sirius Black. Harry caught his breath as a thick, icy sensation descended into his chest. The ghost that was not a ghost turned slowly around to look at him and said only:

"It will be all right, Harry. We're going to explain everything now - together."

Harry tried to respond but his mouth had gone rigid. Seeming to understand, Sirius reached out his hand and pushed open the door which was still unlocked and slightly ajar.

The first thing Harry noticed was Dumbledore sitting stoically behind his desk. Professor Lupin stood next to him, his hair now greyer than brown and several new vicious-looking self-inflicted scars on his cheek. It was obvious from their expressions that this was not the first time either of them had seen Sirius in this form. The silent scene was broken by Ginny, who still sat in the same chair facing Dumbledore's desk. The moment they entered the room, she swiveled around to face the entrance. It was obvious to Harry from her expression that, in his absence, she had been prepared by Dumbledore for what was to come, but her jaw still dropped and her face went stony pale in what Harry could only assume was a mirror of his own.

"Merlin," she managed, her wide brown eyes staring up at Sirius.

"Hello, Ginny," said Sirius, his own intense eyes meeting hers. "I'm sorry I deceived you. I knew your real name that first day of class because, of course, I already knew you before. You are indeed a very bright witch, however, no less than your very good friend, Hermione."

Ginny did not manage to reply again this time and continued to stare after Sirius as he turned and stood next to Lupin. The once and present Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers exchanged a glance that was brief but saturated with a hundred different meanings.

Harry fell into the chair next to Ginny. Their hands quickly found each other and then their wondering eyes.

"Is it really..." said Ginny, taking in a breath.

Harry instinctively looked back up to Sirius and caught a fleeting but pleading look in his eyes.

"Yes," he said slowly, his eyes not leaving his godfather, but his mind still fixed in the world he had just seen. "Yes, I think he must be. But I - I - don't know how - how it's possible." He looked searchingly around at the other occupants of the office.

Sirius seemed to let out a breath if in fact he was breathing at all.

"Perhaps I should be the one to begin explaining," he said gently. "After all, I've become used to it now."

There was little response from the others. Harry sensed that everyone was waiting for him to acknowledge his godfather's request. He looked at Sirius and slowly nodded.

Sirius looked at his godson for another moment and then began.

"When I showed you my true form earlier, Harry, you told me I couldn't be here because I was dead. In every sense that you think of the word, I am. But death is not what I thought of it when I lived in this world, and it's not what any of you think of it now. In ancient times, wizards and witches had an inkling of what death might be. They tried to study it; they even tried to master it, but with horrible consequences. Dark magic as we now know it began in this way. When they saw where the results of their manipulations might lead, most of our kind sought to put a stop to this experimentation and, over time, they succeeded. So much so that any decent wizard and witch, even those most powerful among us," Sirius nodded at Dumbledore, "knows little of its mysteries. The only thing that remains of this experimentation is the gateway that we once used, ruthlessly and ignorantly, to penetrate into the world of the dead. And though our ancient forbearers tried to destroy all knowledge of what we had learned, they did not destroy the gateway, but kept it instead in what they believed was the safest of places - at the heart of the wizard government itself, what we now know as the Ministry of Magic. There they believed it might be safely studied by a future generation of more enlightened leaders and scientists."

Sirius finished with an ironic smile that left little doubt that he believed that present-day wizard-kind was hardly more enlightened than its ancestors.

Harry frowned.

"The gateway?" he said. "You - you mean the _veil_, don't you? That veiled archway? In the Department of Mysteries?"

It was Lupin who answered.

"That's right, Harry," he said stoically. "It was the most brilliant, yet most monstrous thing that we have ever created and it should have been destroyed long ago."

"But it was not," said Dumbledore wearily.

"But what is it doing there?" asked Ginny. "And in that room? It looked as if it was on a kind of stage or something for people to watch. Is that where the wizard scientists did their experiments?"

Sirius turned to Ginny and smiled, a smile that was sad, kind, yet somehow very dark all at once. She felt an involuntary shiver run up her spine.

"I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you together with Harry, Ginny. And even if he has never told you himself, which I sincerely hope he has, I know it would have been far harder for him to have lived through these last two years if it hadn't been for you. Friendship is something but love and friendship together is something much more. You are a good person, Ginny, and light will always follow you wherever you go. But I also know that you were touched by darkness once just as I was. Your heart is not black but you can see the blackness in the hearts of others. Don't be afraid of this, Ginny; it is your strength. Evil does not go away when we pretend it doesn't exist. Can you not think of the use that room was originally put to?"

Ginny watched as Sirius' eyes - eyes from somewhere far beyond the final ignorance of all humankind - stared into hers and she wondered how much of her past Sirius could see. Then swallowing the dryness that had suddenly condensed in her throat, she said:

"It was an execution chamber, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Ginny," said Sirius, his eyes not leaving hers. "I'm afraid that it was."

"We tried to understand the world beyond it at first," added Lupin. "When we found out the price we would pay for doing so, the veil was put to much more - _convenient _uses."

"In slight defense of our forbearers," added Sirius, "it was a somewhat painless way to go. Or so I suspected at the time. My family knew some of its secrets, you see; these things were passed down among the darkest of families. I knew I had not survived my cousin's curse and I hardly wanted to give her the satisfaction of seeing me suffer, nor you the pain, Harry. And so I mustered what strength I had left and fell backwards through the veil." He looked back searchingly at his godson. "And had I thought there was any way I could have survived, no matter what the turmoil, I wouldn't have fallen. I wouldn't have left you, I promise."

Harry felt a hard lump develop in his throat. The emotions he had been fighting ever since he had first confronted Janus in his office threatened to finally spring forth. He felt Ginny's hand tightly squeeze his but it did not stop a tear from falling down his cheek.

"I know," he sobbed. "I believe you."

There was a much longer break this time. Dumbledore conjured a handkerchief and handed it to Harry with the gentleness of a grandfather. Harry blew his nose and dried his eyes and Ginny ran her fingers through his hair. But his eyes never left his godfather's as if he was never sure he would see them again. Finally, he swallowed several times and then nodded.

"Please go on," he said. "I - I want to hear more."

"I could have been a ghost, I suppose," said Sirius, managing another small smile, "but after all I'd experienced, death seemed like the only adventure left. The ghosts are the ones I pity the most now. The world beyond the gateway is more brilliant than anything we can imagine as mundanes."

Harry's tears quickly dried and a look of astonishment passed over him.

"When - when you touched me," he said, "that was the world I saw - b - but _how_? I'm still alive, aren't I?"

Lupin rounded on Sirius.

"You did _what_?" he demanded.

Sirius flashed Lupin a truculent smile.

"I had to help him see. As you know full well, there isn't time."

But Lupin was not impressed. "That was extremely dangerous! If Harry had stayed there too long, he wouldn't have been able to come back!"

Sirius' smile did not leave his face. "Credit me with some sense, Remus. I have gained a great deal of experience in these matters. And besides, Harry isn't afraid of a little danger, are you?"

Harry shook his head vigorously.

Lupin looked back and forth between Sirius and Harry disapprovingly, but voiced no further rebuke.

"Yes, it was, Harry," replied Sirius, after a pause. "Or as much of an imitation of it as your mind could understand."

"What do you mean - _mundanes_?" asked Ginny.

"Mundanes are the name that we give to people in your world, Ginny," said Sirius, "or, more correctly, in your phase of existence. We all came from beyond the gateway and one day we will all return there. We all chose to come to this world to live the adventures of flesh, bones, and sense that we cannot experience there. We also agreed to help those who are trapped in this world forever. We were given tools - our magical abilities - but when we are caught inside a single body, we lose the memories of our souls dancing together. It is not until after we have returned home that we slowly begin to remember ourselves as we once were. Certain things can help us remember, though - like love." He looked meaningfully at Harry and Ginny.

"To help others?" repeated Harry, spellbound at his godfather's words. "You mean - you mean the Muggles, don't you?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes, Harry," replied Sirius. "The Muggles came from beyond the gateway as well but their memories of magic became so forgotten that they could not return once they had died. Instead, they were simply reborn again into other bodies. Those of us who volunteered to travel back and become mundanes ourselves pledged to help them realize their true nature so that they could return once again into the world which they came from long ago."

Harry looked confused. "But you just said they couldn't go back? How could we help them then?"

"By understanding something of their true natures, Muggles could be reborn in their next lifetimes as wizards or witches and then, following that, if they cultivated their abilities, they could finally return to our world beyond the gateway after their deaths."

"Have we been reborn then?" asked Ginny, equally rapt to attention.

"No," replied Sirius. "This is the first time for both of you. As it is for Professor Dumbledore. That is why your magic is especially strong. Since you have honed your abilities, there is little doubt you will be able to return after this lifetime. Have you not ever wondered why you can do magic - what it is?"

"Well, of course," said Harry. "Lots of times."

Ginny nodded, too, although Harry sensed that coming from all-wizarding family, this was a question she had asked far less often than himself.

"Magic is the ability to bring something from beyond the gateway into your own world. Light magic, which is always full of love, keeps this connection especially close. Dark magic, on the other hand, is destructive. It takes the power from our world only at the expense of breeding ignorance of its true nature. If it is powerful enough, it has the power to hurt our world as well as yours, as it has now."

"B - but if we can just come back, why couldn't _you_ come back?" Harry demanded to Sirius, a very slight edge to his voice. "Why can't my Mum and Dad come back?"

Sirius held his hands out in a gesture of surrender, just as his Janus persona had when Harry had confronted him in his office.

"I don't know why, Harry," he said, "but whether we stay for many lifetimes, or as your case, just one, the trip can only be taken once. Once we have found our way back beyond the gateway, we can never return to become mundanes again. And believe me, that is not an easy thing to live with. Our world is beautiful but there is something about the sensations of the flesh that can never really quite be replaced."

"But you _have _come back!" said Harry.

"Yes," said Sirius, looking grave again. "And that wasn't supposed to have happened. It has only happened because destructive forces have been unleashed on our world by this one, the same sort of forces that the ignorant scientists who created the gateway tried to use, but this time much, much worse. The boundary between our two worlds - between life and death itself - has become so unstable that it is now possible for us to cross back, not only as newborn souls, but, in effect, as we are. In fact, we had no other choice. A great amount of the essence of your world has been forced into ours; we had to respond in kind in order to stabilize the rift. But the repair is only temporary: if the damage continues and our worlds are touched together in full, then existence itself will cease. The worlds are opposites. They will, in effect, cancel each other out."

Harry's forehead creased as he tried to absorb the full impact of what his godfather was telling them.

"The storm," he said finally.

All eyes turned to him. Only Sirius' showed a glimmer of understanding.

"The storm," Harry repeated, "in the vision I saw. The people were terrified of it; they tried to run away."

Sirius nodded but said nothing further.

"But aren't you touching this world now? I mean, you're here among us, as you are as you said."

Ginny frowned at the tongue-twister her still confused mind had produced.

"Not quite, Ginny," said Sirius. "I am here in stasis - in a sort of bubble, if you like - just like the parts of your own world are in ours. The bubble puts stress on your reality but only in equal measure to the stress you have put on ours."

"That's how you can Apparate!" said Ginny, her eyes suddenly full of understanding. "And that's why you don't show up on the Marauder's Map!"

Sirius smiled again. "Yes, Ginny, as usual, you seem to have found the truth. I have never Apparated. One cannot, in fact, Apparate in or outside of Hogwarts as Hermione was so often fond of telling you. What you saw me doing was disappearing into my own world and then re-appearing again in another part of your own. I had a body, Professor Janus, that I conjured both as a disguise and, as Harry has discovered, so that anyone who touched me did not suddenly find themselves pulled out of their own reality. But it wasn't a real body like yours. And that was why I did not appear on your map."

"But who would want to destroy the world?" asked Ginny.

It was Harry who answered.

"Voldemort. It's Voldemort, isn't it?"

Dumbledore slowly nodded.

"But why?" demanded Ginny. "I know he's evil but surely even he doesn't want to destroy the whole world? For one thing, he would destroy himself as well! Doesn't he understand what he is doing?"

"No, Ginny, he does not," said the Headmaster gravely. "As I'm sure you have realized by now, Voldemort knows nothing of love. How could he understand anything of the world beyond the gateway?"

But Ginny was not completely satisfied.

"But if he's manipulating the gateway as you say, then he must know something about it!"

But Dumbledore shook his head again.

"Lord Voldemort has a great deal of knowledge, perhaps indeed more than any wizard who has ever lived, but he has no wisdom, and that is perhaps the most dangerous ignorance of all. Voldemort is motivated by one thing, Ginny, and one thing only: _fear_. That is why he uses it so often as a weapon. It is he who understands how deeply fear stings. Do you know what the word 'Voldemort' means, Ginny?"

Ginny shook her head. She had spent most of her life in fear of even hearing or speaking the Dark Lord's name. She had not spent much time thinking about what it might mean. She looked across at Harry but he only shrugged.

"It means 'flight from death,'" replied Dumbledore. "Voldemort and his '_Death _Eaters' are afraid to die, as all of us are, because they know nothing of what lies beyond death. Even if Voldemort were to stand here with us in this very room and supposing he believed that we desired to tell him the truth, he would still insist it was we who were misguided and deceived, not him. I believe that Voldemort knows, as I did, something of the principles of the gateway and that it is a world beyond death. It is not enough to understand the world but it is enough to manipulate it and by manipulating it, he hopes, in some way, to cheat death for himself."

Then Dumbledore paused and sighed heavily.

"And there's another reason: even if Voldemort knew and believed everything Sirius has told you tonight, he would also realize that he can never return to the world beyond the gateway. His soul is condemned to perish forever when his current body expires. _I _saw to that."

"_You_, sir?" asked Ginny incredulously. "But how? When?"

But Harry looked steadily across at Dumbledore, realization in his eyes.

"The curse you cast on Voldemort in the original room last spring," he said.

Dumbledore nodded slowly.

Ginny swung her head around to look at Harry. "What curse?" she asked.

"_Spiritus Volare Mortalis_," replied Harry. "It means that the next time Voldemort returned he would be mortal and that his next body would be his last..." His voice trailed off. "But I didn't know at the time - I didn't realize - "

Lupin nodded slowly. "The irony is that Voldemort had the immortality he sought all along, but his own fear and evil have finally caused him to lose it."

But Dumbledore did not seem as pleased with his own handiwork.

"I made him desperate," he said gravely. "A plan of the scale he has unleashed now could not have been something he thought of or planned overnight. He must have been waiting for a long time. Perhaps he was waiting until he had found the support he wanted. Perhaps he wanted to kill you first, Harry, to make sure you did not interfere with his plans. But after I cursed him that afternoon, everything changed. He realized that he could be killed easily and all would be lost. He now has no choice but to try to use the power and knowledge at his disposal to eliminate death itself as he understands it - as quickly as possible. He has nothing to lose and that is the most dangerous thing of all. And he has caught us all at our most unprepared hour."

The headmaster seemed to collapse back into his chair. It was no wonder to Harry now why he had seemed so desperate to Ginny that morning they had met in the corridor. All of Dumbledore's plans to make Voldemort easier for Harry to kill when he returned had now backfired on a massive scale. Dumbledore had underestimated Voldemort after spending half a lifetime trying to do anything but.

"But I still don't understand," Harry heard Ginny saying. "Voldemort's come back then? How? Where? Surely he can't be that difficult to stop if he's mortal now? We can't just sit here and let him get away with this!"

Dumbledore and Sirius turned to Lupin and Harry and Ginny sensed it was now his turn to explain what had happened.

"We don't intend to let him get away with anything," he replied, with as much conviction as it seemed he could muster at the moment, "but as Professor Dumbledore says, he has caught us unawares with some very powerful dark magic we did not know he possessed. I'm afraid that, at the moment, he enjoys the upper hand."

Lupin waited for a moment for his words to sink in and then continued.

"Last summer, there was a break-in at the Department of Mysteries and the gateway was removed from its place."

"The six missing Ministry wizards!" exclaimed Ginny, remembering the article Hermione had read to them from _The Daily Prophet _on the Hogwarts Express the first day of the term.

"That's right, Ginny," said Lupin. "The Ministry, which has already suffered a large number of scandals, not least of which consistently denying and then downplaying Voldemort's return, tried to cover up what they saw as a serious embarrassment. It was only after Sirius returned that we began to suspect the truth. Using our Order contacts, I was able to discover what had happened. Once again, with help from Sirius, who was able to perceive energies of the Gateway that none of us can understand, we have been able to pinpoint its approximate location."

Lupin took out his wand and drew an arc in the air. One wall of Dumbledore's office was suddenly transformed into a large evergreen forest, sloping over gentle hills. In the middle of the forest, hanging like a turquoise jewel, was a small lake. Several portraits on the wall grumbled half-sleepy protests but Lupin ignored them.

"We believe it is somewhere in the Lake District of northern England," said Lupin, "in an area home mostly to myocorps and goblins, but far from any centers of human population, either Muggle or wizard. From what the Order has been able to determine, there have been significant movements of Death Eaters around the lake over the last several months. We believe that the veil may be actually stored underneath the lake itself."

"But what are they doing with it there?" asked Harry.

"Making all hell break loose, Harry," said Sirius darkly. "They think they can experiment with it, manipulate it, that they can finally use it to cheat death."

"Even the Ministry would not fail to notice if they tried to tinker with it under their very noses," said Dumbledore, "so their first step was to move it to somewhere else."

"How do we know it's Voldemort who did this?" asked Ginny, sounding doubtful about her own question. "I mean, couldn't it just be the remaining Death Eaters themselves? One last attempt, that sort of thing?"

But Dumbledore shook his head somberly. "Only a wizard with Voldemort's power could have moved the gateway itself. Besides, Sirius has helped us there again."

"Beyond the gateway we have a sort of, well, a sort of _machine_, I suppose, though it isn't a machine in any way you would think of it," Sirius explained. "I suppose you might call it a soul glass. The soul glass enables us to see every soul alive, and whether they are mundane, that is, locked inside a body, or not and whether they are wizard - that is, possessing magic - or Muggle."

"So you can see Voldemort?" asked Harry.

"Not quite," replied Sirius. "The soul glass cannot tell us the identity of the souls, not in any case as you think of them, but it is possible to determine their nature. Occasionally, more than one soul attaches to a single body."

"Even we are aware of this," added Lupin. "Many cultures speak of soul possession or spirit possession: the Chinese call it a _futi_, the Etoro of New Guinea refer to it as an _ausulubo_, the early Christians called them demons, the - "

Sirius briefly flashed Lupin a slightly pained look and their former teacher cleared his throat and stopped.

"In this case," Sirius went on. "We have been able to see a double-souled body which has, on occasion, appeared near the entrance to the Gateway. Moreover, unlike most double-souled bodies in which one soul is eventually expelled by the other to inhabit a normally vacant new body, this soul is slowly eating the other. In time, it will consume it completely. There is only one mundane who possesses those sorts of abilities as well as the cruelty to use them."

"Where is the double-souled body now, then?" asked Harry as Ginny grimaced. "Can you track it?"

Sirius shook his head again. "We cannot perceive space in the way that mundanes do. We can only distinguish the double-souled body when it nears the Gateway. Of course, I can see the mundane world as you do while I am here, just as you briefly saw into our world, Harry, albeit through my own essence. But I can no more tell if I have encountered Voldemort's new body than you could."

"So it could be anyone?" said Ginny.

"Not _just _anyone," said Dumbledore. "Voldemort could have only merged with the other soul with its owner's consent."

"Like Professor Quirrell!" said Harry.

"In some ways, yes, and in other ways, no, Harry," replied Dumbledore enigmatically. "In either case, there aren't many who would consent to house Voldemort's soul. It is most likely a Death Eater, and more than likely, whoever it is has little appreciation of the consequences of his or her actions."

"Who else is near the veil?" asked Ginny. "Can you see other Death Eaters? You said that you had to come to our world because something of our world had come into yours," she said to Sirius.

In response, Sirius nodded quickly to Lupin who flicked his wand again. The image of the forest and the lake disappeared, replaced by a strange-looking diagram of circles and lines. A small round circle stood in the middle that contained a diagram of the veil and its archway - the Gateway. The Gateway sat at the zenith of an arc. The area above the arc was colored in black and labeled "THE WORLD BEYOND" and the area below it, shaded in yellow was labeled "OUR WORLD." The area within our world was dotted with small black circles. Ginny realized without asking that the circles were part of the world beyond in ours; Sirius was one of them and there must be others like him here also. The world beyond was pure black save for a small yellow amoeba-like blotch that emanated from somewhere along the arc between the two worlds just to the left of the Gateway.

"Is that what's causing the imbalance?" asked Harry, pointing to the cloud.

"Yes, very good, Harry," replied Lupin. "This is what Voldemort and the Death Eaters have managed to create. For what purpose, we cannot be sure, but it is the source of the instability and imbalance. It is a kind of bubble-world, a part of our own universe, with the same laws and principles, that has encroached into theirs."

"And it isn't empty," added Sirius. "There are people in it: Muggles and wizards."

"The Muggle-borns!" cried Ginny, rising to her feet.

"We cannot be sure, Ginny," said Lupin calmly, "but it does seem a likely hypothesis, yes."

"But what are they doing there?" asked Ginny.

"We do not know that either," said Dumbledore. "But they are in even greater danger than the rest of us. Their world is the most unstable and unnatural element in this whole very volatile interface."

"But we've got to get them out of there!" Ginny cried.

Sirius smiled again ironically.

"Believe me, Ginny, we're trying."

"We have sent members of the Order to try and penetrate the lake," explained Lupin, "but we have had no better success in finding the Gateway than the Death Eaters had in discovering number twelve, Grimmauld Place."

"Is that why we can't remember them?" said Harry as Ginny wrung her hands in exasperation.

"No," replied Dumbledore, looking very tired indeed. "We do not remember them because we have been subjected to an extremely powerful series of Memory Charms placed, we believe, by various Death Eaters in different parts of the wizarding world. One at Hogwarts, one at the Ministry, one at the _Prophet, _and several in major centers of wizard populations. As I said, this was an extremely elaborate plan, one which must have been conceived a long time ago. I should have figured this out as well when you first came to see me, Ginny. I'd like to think that if Sirius hadn't appeared in timely fashion, I might have done. I was a teacher here when Professor Darden first demonstrated the technology of mass memory alteration almost sixty years ago. I knew it was very powerful dark magic and I was one of those who argued for his dismissal. I also knew that he and Tom Riddle were very close. Yet I fear my over-confidence that all was right in the wizarding world after Voldemort's apparent demise proved more powerful than any Memory Charm in allowing me to selectively forget these things."

"That's how Grawp and Fump disappeared with everyone still remembering them," explained Lupin, seemingly just as much to draw attention away from the devastated expression on Dumbledore's face as to impart new information. "Since Hagrid always kept them a secret, Malfoy and Wormtail would not have known about them. They expelled a certain class of creatures, perhaps, but then could only remove our memories of specific individuals."

"The Memory Charms have been updated every time Voldemort wanted to make another group disappear," Sirius added. "It was just as you tried to tell us all along, Ginny."

Ginny felt her cheeks burn brightly. After spending three months convincing herself and others that she was not completely mad, she had finally been vindicated. But Ginny also found herself unsure, as Harry had been, whether she didn't prefer the lie she had been struggling against than the horrible truth that had just been laid out before her.

Harry's mind reeled. He had spent three months trying to find a way to believe Ginny but even as he heard Dumbledore confirm that she had been right, it still seemed almost impossible to believe.

"B - but I remember everything that happened to me," he suddenly blurted out. "Everything since the very first day I came to Hogwarts. Ron and I met on the train. We found the Philosopher's Stone; we defeated the basilisk and saved Ginny! Those things weren't made up!"

"A lie is always most effective when shrouded in the truth," said Lupin softly. "Many of your memories are real, Harry. The only ones that are missing are those that concerned your Muggle-born friends and the others who have disappeared. As happens when we lose part of our memories, our minds move in to fill the gaps."

"But they all remembered the same thing!" said Ginny. "It was like a conspiracy."

"It _is_ a conspiracy," said Sirius meaningfully.

"Voldemort uses the spell to link your minds each time he uses the Memory Charm," explained Lupin softly. "That way we all remember the same thing even though our memories are lies."

"But - but I still can't - " Harry frowned. "It just seems impossible!"

"Harry," said Sirius gently. "Tell me: do you remember the night you rescued me from the prison at the top of the tower, just when Fudge was about to send the dementors to have me kissed?"

"Of course I do!" said Harry, his eyes burning brightly.

"Were you alone?" asked Sirius, his tone still soft.

"Well, yes," Harry frowned. "I - I mean _no_. Ron was with me."

"Wasn't Ron injured?"

Harry frowned again for a moment.

"Yeah," he said as if suddenly remembering. "It was a bit crazy, really."

"How did you get to the tower?" asked Sirius.

"Well, I - " Harry paused. "Professor Dumbledore let us out," he replied.

"Weren't you afraid you would be seen?"

"I - I - well, yes, I - "

Harry frowned again.

"How did you get to the tower, Harry? The passageway was locked and guarded."

"I - I - I - " Harry looked up to Dumbledore for support but the headmaster looked almost as bewildered as he did. "I - I don't _remember_," he finally said. "But it's silly, I - but I - I'm sure I knew before - I'm sure - I didn't have - I _know _what I know!"

Ginny put a gentle arm on Harry's shoulder.

"You have begun to doubt," said Sirius. "And your doubts are making the false memories unravel. But you still won't be able to remember your friends and you won't unless we find the vessel containing the stolen memories."

Ginny gasped. "The box! The box that Professor Darden used! Hagrid told us about it. Once the box was opened - "

"The memories returned," finished Sirius.

"It doesn't need to be a box," said Lupin. "It could be anything."

"Well, we've got to find it!" protested Ginny. Her face fell as she regarded the patronizing smiles on the faces of Lupin and Sirius. "You've tried already, I suppose. And I suppose it could be anywhere."

"Not quite anywhere," said Lupin. "It would have to be somewhere nearby, probably somewhere on the Hogwarts grounds. But our search is complicated by the fact that there are not only people we have forgotten, but entire sections of the school. The vessel is likely hidden in one of those sections."

"But couldn't you find it?" Harry asked Sirius.

"I do know about the hidden portions of the castle, yes," replied Sirius, "as perhaps Ginny does, too. But they continue to change with each memory shift. For you the map of the castle in your memories seems the same but, actually, memories of certain parts of it return while memories of other parts change. Never the main parts of the school, of course, so I doubt whether the contradictions were as noticeable to you, Ginny, as much as when actual people went missing. Have you heard, for instance, of the Room of Requirement?"

"Of course," replied Ginny. "That's where the D.A. used to meet!"

But looking over at Harry, she saw a very blank expression on his face.

"Sorry," he said, "but we used to meet in the kitchens - in the pantry. The house elves guarded the door in case anyone else came in. Umbridge found us, of course, eventually."

Ginny did not even bother to try and contradict Harry this time, but she turned imploringly to Dumbledore.

"_You're_ the one who told Harry about the room, sir!" she said.

But Dumbledore shook his head again.

"Forgive me, Ginny, but it seems I do not remember that, either."

"We believe that the vessel is being moved around as those hidden areas are shifted," said Lupin. "The area where the vessel is being stored is always hidden from most of our memories and it is shifted so that if Sirius went looking for it, he would also have difficulty pinpointing its location."

"They know about you, also, then?" Harry asked Sirius.

"Oh, yes, they know about me. Malfoy found out the very first day. The Death Eaters told him or showed him enough that he knew what he was seeing when I 'appeared' in the room like that. Of course," he added, with a very satisfied smile, "they haven't been able to get rid of me yet. Their banishment hex won't work on me."

"Malfoy!" said Ginny. "_He _still remembers everything!"

"It appears Mr. Malfoy is one of the Death Eater's main operatives at Hogwarts," said Dumbledore grimly.

"We've got to get rid of him then!" cried Harry. "_Expel_ him finally, once and for all! We _know_ he's in league with them this time!"

"Doing that would reveal how much we know, Harry," said Lupin, his tone of voice as calm and measured as Harry's was agitated. "All the Death Eaters would have to do would be to plant another Memory Charm which would make us forget we had ever expelled him in the first place, and allow him to return."

"And Malfoy's not the only Death Eater here," added Sirius, "I found _Wormtail_ prowling around the corridors the third week after I arrived. I'd have suffocated him in my fist if I'd had the chance," he said, with a sudden savage tone that made Ginny shudder, "but even with the ability to appear and re-appear, he still managed to slip away. They're using the Room of Requirement as their base. That's the only place in the school I can't enter."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"You forget, Harry," said Sirius wryly, "The Room of Requirement provides the user with whatever he needs. Even charms to keep out wizards from other dimensions."

"We believe it is Wormtail who is casting the Memory Charms," said Lupin, "and passing instructions along to Malfoy. Wormtail can slip virtually undetected throughout the corridors of the school, making use of passages we don't remember exist. He is also been privy to a great many conversations."

"That's why you couldn't talk to me that day!" said Ginny to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded somberly. "We can never be sure where he is or whether he is listening. We also don't know what other surveillance charms Malfoy and Wormtail have been using. The only thing we can be sure of is that this office is the only safe place we can talk. The wards guarding this room are made of a stronger and older magic than the rest of the castle as Dolores Umbridge discovered when she tried to take over here two years ago. There are no spaces for rats or intrusive charms."

"Couldn't you use the Marauder's Map to find out where he is?" asked Ginny.

"We tried that," said Lupin, "manufactured another one, in fact. But the map only shows the parts of the school that we still remember and Wormtail rarely remains for long within those. You see, the Memory Charms not only wipe out the memories of people and places but anything that concerns them or remains in their possession. The map cannot lie but I'm afraid it can tell half-truths."

"Then why didn't it remove the wizard rings that Ron was going to give to Hermione?" asked Ginny.

For the first time, it seemed that she knew something that Lupin, Sirius, and Dumbledore didn't. An amused smile twitched over Dumbledore's mouth and a swashbuckling grin made its way onto the face of Sirius. Lupin, however, looked slightly sad.

"You said he was _going_ to give them to her?" asked Dumbledore.

Ginny nodded.

"Then you have your answer," finished Lupin. "And you have hit upon the flaw in Voldemort's plan. Until Ron gave Hermione the rings, they were still in his possession. They were not yet hers and so, unlike her bed, her clothes, or her books, they did not disappear when she did. The spell does not read intention."

"So they stayed in the same place where he hid them," realized Ginny, "but he didn't know they were there."

Harry, whose face had been creased in confusion ever since Sirius had first started talking about Wormtail, broke into the conversation again.

"But didn't Wormtail and Malfoy already know that you had been telling everything to Professor Dumbledore anyway?" he asked Sirius.

"They do now," said Sirius gruffly. "But they didn't at first." And then, he smiled again. "I managed to keep a good ruse up for a while."

Ginny's eyes widened. "That day, I overheard you bribe Malfoy with the gold! You tried to make him think you were working against Dumbledore but it was just an attempt to try and deceive him and the other Death Eaters and buy yourselves more time!"

"Quite right, Ginny," replied Sirius, with a twinkle in his eye. "You see, Malfoy knows where I come from but he doesn't know who I am, otherwise I'm sure he never would have believed me. A bit risky of you to hide behind the door like that, mind you. Fortunately, Malfoy didn't question me when I asked him to leave it open. Still, it's what any good Gryffindor would have done. For what it's worth, I still would have given him the gold if he'd agreed to work against the Death Eaters. Even Gringotts' vaults aren't immune to inter-dimensional travel."

"And bankrupted the wizarding world?" asked Lupin wryly.

"If necessary, yes," said Sirius, his jaw hardening. "Bankruptcy seems a small price to pay when the alternative is total extinction."

"You said they know now, though?" said Harry.

"Yes," replied Sirius. "Malfoy was careless. I heard them talking outside the door to the original room yesterday. They didn't say much but it was enough to find out what they know. They're also planning to expel Professor Dumbledore and Remus if they can. We don't know when but I'm afraid it's just a matter of time now."

"I expect they overheard me talking to Sirius once too often outside this office." Dumbledore seemed to avoid looking directly at Ginny. "I expect it won't be very long before I become the next resident of the very unstable spider's web that Voldemort has created." He pointed a bony finger to the map of the bubble world which still hovered next to the far wall of his office.

"But there must be some way to stop them!" Ginny protested, as if the whole thing was Dumbledore's fault. "There must be some way to stop everyone going in there and get them all back out!"

"There _is _a way out," said Lupin, trying to sound hopeful, "only we're not quite sure how to get to it."

"Just earlier today, a wizard or witch moved out of the bubble world and then back in again," explained Sirius. "Last week, two Muggles moved in and then out."

Ginny gasped. "B - but who were these people? And where are they now?"

"I'm afraid we don't know," said Lupin sighing.

"B - but surely Muggles would remember - "

It was Harry who answered.

"They'd have put Memory Charms on them, wouldn't they?"

Dumbledore nodded. "It would be very easy, yes. And it is likely that the wizards and witches inside the bubble universe have been subjected to similar Memory Charms that we have. It is doubtful that they know where or who they really are."

There was a long pause.

"So," said Ginny finally, a despondent note in her voice, "you've brought us here to tell us that there's nothing we can do?"

Dumbledore's eyes glowed bright once again.

"Oh, no, Ginny," he said, "I would have never endangered your lives to tell you that. I have brought you here to do what you have been doing all along, to _remember_."

"When we've left," added Lupin, "you may be the only one who knows what we have told you here tonight, besides Sirius, that is."

"But why?" asked Ginny. "Why is it that _I_ remember?"

But she was only met with silence.

"I'm afraid that's another thing that we simply don't know, Ginny," said Lupin.

"Isn't because of her link with Voldemort?" asked Harry.

"No," said Dumbledore. "That link was severed the night that I expelled Voldemort's soul in the original room."

"In any case," said Lupin, ignoring the very surprised look on Ginny's face. "Whatever the reason you have this gift, it's something we have to try to use to our advantage."

There was a very long pause. Harry tried to think whether he had asked Dumbledore, Sirius, and Lupin every question he could think of. He could also see that Ginny was doing the same. In the end, Dumbledore cleared his throat and said gently:

"I fear it is now very late. If you are absent from your dormitories too long, it is very likely that Mr. Malfoy and Wormtail will suspect what you know."

"What about you?" asked Ginny.

"We will stay here with Professor Dumbledore as long as necessary," said Lupin, "in the hopes that we can find some way to stop the banishment hex before it makes _us_ disappear."

"We want to stay with you, too!" cried Harry, getting to his feet. "I don't care if Malfoy and Wormtail _do _know!"

"Then we would be faced with the burden of making three people not disappear instead of two," replied Lupin calmly.

"Stay with Ginny, Harry," said Sirius meaningfully. "Protect her. From now on, you're both in more danger, but Ginny's may be even greater than yours. Since the Death Eaters can't seem to make her memories go away, they might resort to much cruder means to silence her."

Harry looked about to protest for a moment but then he slowly nodded. Ginny got to her feet as well without protest. The two younger Gryffindors stared at their three elders for a moment, both allowing their gaze to linger the longest on Sirius.

"Will I see you again?" asked Harry, unable to keep the sound of a soft croak from coming out of his mouth.

"Of course, Harry," replied Sirius with a toothy smile. "And we'll continue our lessons, I promise."

Harry stared for a little longer at Sirius as though unsure he believed him. It seemed as though he was memorizing the contours of his godfather's face in case he would never see them again. Finally, he turned around to leave but Ginny turned back and went up to Dumbledore's desk. The headmaster's sad but kind eyes looked back up at her.

"Yes, Ginny?" he said engagingly.

"I have one last question, sir," Ginny replied. "You said that the link between myself and Voldemort was now severed."

"That's right."

"So if I were to ever face him again," Ginny said, seeming to choose her words carefully, "I couldn't rely on that - defense and, of course, neither could he. A hex cast against one would no longer rebound on the other."

Dumbledore looked searchingly at Ginny's unblushing face and then slowly nodded.

"Thank you, sir," she said and then turned around to take Harry's hand. As they walked out of the office and down the spiral staircase, she felt her heart beat a little more rapidly as she prepared herself for the question she was sure Harry would ask. But it never came. It seemed he was too preoccupied with the impossibilities he had seen and heard that night. She gave his hand a supportive squeeze which he reciprocated but they walked onto Gryffindor Tower in silence and Ginny returned in her mind to the question she had just asked Dumbledore.

She had not been thinking about defense, of course, and she didn't care about any prophecies. She was only sure of one thing: if she ever met Voldemort again, she was going to kill him. She was going to end this once and for all.

* * *

In the otherwise dark Room of Requirement, a hazy blue light shone in twin beams from Wormtail's eyes and projected onto the wall, a process which, if the steady moans emanating from Wormtail's mouth were any indication, was somewhat painful. Malfoy stared at the image on the wall with close attention, ignoring Wormtail. The image clearly showed Harry entering the Defense Against the Dark Arts office and sitting down at the desk of Professor Janus. After a few moments of inaudible talking, Janus placed his wand to his temple. Malfoy watched as his face melted away to reveal the image of Sirius. The conversation continued on the screen but Malfoy lost interest. He angrily paced away from the wall and returned to the center of the room. Wormtail emitted a slightly louder protest and Malfoy absently waved his hand. The image disappeared and light from an unknown source lit up the whole room at once. Wormtail gave a short, sharp howl of pain and rubbed his hands over his eyes.

"I would have thought you'd be used to the process by now, Wormtail," snapped Malfoy. "I told you it will do you no permanent damage. I depend on your eyes too much to want anything to go wrong with them."

"My Lord is too generous," whimpered Wormtail, continuing to moan.

A glass snake materialized on the table, not unlike the model Malfoy had smashed earlier in the term just before he had banished Snape to the bubble world. A small expression of pleasure creased his face before he took hold of the snake and angrily smashed it to the ground causing Wormtail to yelp in fear. A second snake appeared in his place and Malfoy smashed that one also.

"He will pay," he declared fervently. "I may not be able to banish him but he will pay for his deceit!"

Another snake appeared and Malfoy dutifully smashed it to the ground with the others. He watched the table carefully, prepared to take out his frustrations on a fourth, but nothing appeared. He felt a brief surge of anger but then, as if checking his own emotions, smiled and turned back to Wormtail.

"You have done well, Wormtail," he said. "An excellent and most fortunate discovery. Your patience and cleverness have given us valuable information."

"My Lord is - " began Wormtail again but Malfoy cut him off.

"We must act quickly," he said, beginning to pace around the room again. "I will communicate with Umbridge and explain that we need her here at once. And she will get her way after all; we will have to prepare another Memory Charm for the mudbloods. We will banish Dumbledore and the werewolf tonight and - " he broke off, staring into space, an almost sad look in his eyes, "- and _Potter_. We've waited long enough. _She_ will understand," he said, an oddly faraway look in his eyes. "She will understand when she knows the truth."

"And the other half-bloods, my Lord?" said Wormtail.

"No, _only _Potter," said Malfoy disconcertedly.

"But, my Lord," replied Wormtail, his hands finally leaving his eyes and twitching nervously through the air in front of him. "As you know, using the spell on a single person is much more complicated. Perhaps if you were to - "

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND _NOTHING_, WORMTAIL?" Malfoy boomed suddenly. "I _said_ _'only Potter.'"_

Wormtail cowered in the corner and began moaning pitifully again, his brief attempt at assertiveness now altogether vanished. Malfoy, as usual, said nothing in response. He did not need to tell Wormtail again what would happen if he failed him this time. The door opened though neither was near it. Wormtail sank into the form of a nervously twitching rat and disappeared into the darkness outside.

* * *

A small group of fifth years assiduously studying for a Potions exam were the only occupants of the Gryffindor common room when Harry and Ginny re-entered. Brief acknowledgments were exchanged before the fifth years returned to their work. Although Harry had a passing acquaintance with all of them, they seemed to him now very much part of the surreal, illusory background of the school in which he and Ginny now walked around in, but from which they were otherwise completely cut off.

Without hesitation, both he and Ginny reached a mutual decision to sit down together on the nearest sofa. They continued to hold hands and, after a time, Harry snaked his arm around Ginny's shoulders and she fell back against his chest, yet neither said anything. Finally, the fifth years finished their studies and one by one returned to their respective dormitories but still Harry and Ginny said nothing to each other nor did either make any move to leave. A full moon was already starting its slow but inexorable journey down toward the horizon and morning when Ginny finally said:

"What did you see, Harry? What did Sirius show you?"

Ginny had to tilt her head upwards to see Harry shaking his head.

"I - I couldn't begin to say," he replied, finding it a little bit odd to hear his own voice again. "It's almost impossible to describe. With every minute it seems to get further and further away, like a dream. And the more I try to remember it, the further it gets. There was a sort - a sort of valley with people in it. They were beckoning to me - but not to _me_, I suppose. It was like I was Sirius. It's - it's all very strange."

"Do you think it was a real place?"

"Yes, I do. I think maybe it was realer than anything I've ever known."

Ginny said nothing in response, but she leaned further into Harry. He ran his fingers through her hair but his eyes seemed far away.

"I remember one thing, though," he finally said after a long pause.

"Go on."

"My Mum and Dad were there."

Ginny took in a sharp breath. "Oh, Harry," she said, "b - but _how_? I mean - did you talk to them?"

"I couldn't," said Harry. "I - I - I tried but it couldn't make any sound come out of my mouth. I was in pain at the time. It just - I couldn't - it was like a dream. But they could see me." He felt his face curl into a smile as he recalled the memory of his mother's face, so much like Ginny's but also so different. "My mum called out to me."

And then very suddenly, Harry's smile faded and silent tears welled up in his eyes and started to fall down his face.

"I know it was her. It was _really _her this time. It was really both of them," he sobbed.

Ginny ran three gentle fingers over Harry's cheeks, taking the moisture of his tears in her hand.

"Oh, Harry," she said again. "I don't know what to say."

Harry shook his head and drew her closer still.

"I want to thank you, Ginny," he said. "Without you, I would never have known about any of this. I would never have seen them."

"You should thank yourself, Harry. You would never have seen them if you hadn't had faith in me."

Another very long silence fell. Harry watched the moon fall further still until its light pierced directly through the curtainless windows of the common room with surprising brightness. In its light, he watched as Ginny's eyes closed several times only to open again as she jerked herself awake.

"Hey," he said.

Ginny looked up at him and smiled.

"Just rest," he said. "Everything will be O.K."

Ginny looked up at Harry for a moment, remembering how she had rested like this in his arms under the beech tree what had seemed like months ago but had really been earlier that very long night.

"I promise I won't let you dream any more nightmares this time," Harry added.

"I know, Harry," said Ginny, who realized from experience that her nightmares never came to her when she was thinking of them. "But I - I'm just afraid that if I fall asleep, nothing will be the same again when I wake."

"It's not you that's changing, Ginny, remember? It's us. And we'll change whether you sleep or not."

"Maybe when you wake, you won't remember anything that happened tonight."

"Maybe not, but like you said, I'll always have faith in you."

Ginny let Harry's words hang in her mind for a moment. Then she rested her head on his chest, gave out one long, tired yawn, and allowed herself to drift into sleep. The last thing she remembered before unconsciousness overtook her was that they had never asked Dumbledore what he was doing with the Mirror of Erised.

Her mind already in sleep, Ginny shifted comfortably against the warmth of Harry's body. But when she would wake, she would find nothing under her head but the sofa itself. For sixteen years, the Boy Who Lived had been a living symbol of everything the wizarding world had hoped and feared about itself, but by the time the moon had finished its journey that night, all of those dreams and fears would vanish from the mundane world along with Harry himself. The only thing left would be his memory in Ginny's mind.


	10. Friends In The Darkness

**Chapter 10**

**Friends in the Darkness**

Hermione sat down next to Lavender, too weary to fight or even talk to her roommate. Lavender's pale cheeks were flushed and she panted with nervous energy as though she had been running a race. Hermione, however, felt a horrible draining malaise start to come over her as though she was too weak to act or even think about acting. Looking around, the walls of the prison seemed to grow even higher and Hermione couldn't escape the feeling that she was sinking into a narrow ravine with no hope and no way out. She could still hear the sounds of the netball game going on right next to her but they seemed to grow more and more distant with each passing moment as though they were part of a shadowy alter-reality far removed from the dense terror in which Hermione now found herself.

Still consumed by her morose thoughts, Hermione heard Lavender give out a small gasp. She looked up to see Dean walking slowly toward them from the other side of the playground. Lavender got to her feet, closely followed by Hermione, whose attention was now closely fixed on Dean. They had taken a few steps forward when they noticed, for the first time, that Umbridge's petite frame was slowly trailing Dean. Lavender froze, but Hermione tugged at her arm and, propelled by an energy which had been lacking moments before, urged her to continue walking forward.

Their quick strides took them across the playground much faster than Umbridge and Dean were walking toward them. At first, Hermione thought that Dean might have been slowing down for Umbridge but as they neared, they could see that he was walking slowly, almost gingerly toward them. Hermione felt like a hard rock had descended into her stomach the nearer they walked, but she forced herself to go faster until finally they had met.

"I have finished with Mr. Thomas now," said Umbridge sweetly. "I trust I didn't keep him from you too long."

Hermione ignored Umbridge and looked up closely at Dean. He had an odd look on his face like he was forcing his eyes open. A moment later, he flinched.

"Dean!" said Lavender as Hermione felt the color drain from her face. "Dean, are you all right?"

Dean winced again and Hermione noticed he was bending over slightly. Ignoring Umbridge, she and Lavender steered him to a nearby bench.

"It's all right," Dean said hoarsely. "I'll be all right."

But Lavender did not seem very convinced. Ignoring Umbridge, she quickly sat down next to Dean and put her hand on his shoulder. She had no sooner done this when Dean winced and bent over. His sweater and shirt pulled upward slightly to reveal the beginnings of several criss-crossing scars on his lower back.

Lavender gasped.

"Wh - what - what are those?" she asked.

Dean quickly straightened up and tucked his shirt roughly into his trousers.

"_I said I'll be all right, Lavender_!"

"Mr. Thomas is quite correct," said a honey-coated voice, as Hermione turned around to see that Umbridge had drifted up noiselessly behind them. "I doubt there will have been any permanent damage although Headmaster Snape did get quite cross when Mr. Thomas stubbornly refused to scream. Now, I'm afraid I will have to take my leave as I have other matters that require my attention. If either of you should see Mr. Creevey, perhaps you would be kind enough to inform him that I would like to see him this time tomorrow. Of course, should you decide to come and see me first, Hermione, that meeting may prove itself unnecessary. It's all up to you, you see, my dear."

Umbridge turned to leave but before she could, Hermione had leapt forward after her. Lavender just noticed what she was doing in time to grab hold of her arms before she could free either of them to strike the nun.

"You horrid little toad!" Hermione snapped, struggling to free herself from Lavender. "You wretched, evil - _let me go_!"

But Lavender continued to restrain Hermione's arms with all her might.

Umbridge's smile diminished only slightly as she turned around to face Hermione.

"Have a care, girl," she said, in a tone of voice that was as quiet as it was nasty. "You're not above a good thrashing yourself. I'll be waiting for my answer."

"You won't succeed, you know," said Lavender, very quietly, almost as though she hoped that Umbridge wouldn't hear.

"Oh, I rather think I shall, Miss Brown," Umbridge said, her smile returning. "Although I hope Miss Granger does not take too much more time. I would hate to have to harm an attractive creature like yourself. Good day."

Hermione and Lavender watched Umbridge turn her back on them and slowly walk away, apparently confident that neither of them would attempt any move against her.

Hermione shoved herself out of Lavender's grip and turned around to face her. Before she could say anything, however, it became apparent that her attempt to attack Umbridge had created quite a crowd of students. Fortunately, it was Sister Owens' turn on playground duty that day. She bounded over quickly. Hermione wondered for a moment if the nun who had once been the only friendly person to her at St. Brutus's was finally about to turn against her. But Sister Owens hurried the other students along quickly, saying nothing to Hermione and Lavender.

Hermione watched her go for a moment and then swung around to face Lavender.

"What did you do that for?" she hissed, as loudly as she dared. "And now look, you've gotten yourself into trouble, just as I said - "

"Excuse me!" Lavender shot back, "but you're not the only one who makes decisions around here! If you'd gotten a punch in at Umbridge, you'd be far worse for it and probably so would I! You might think I'm no smarter than a puff of air but I've chosen my ground and now I'm going to stand on it!"

And before Hermione could respond, Lavender sat down on the bench next to Dean who was still bent over, his hands between his knees.

"Let me see," she said, taking his shirt in her hands.

"No! Leave me alone, Lavender!"

"Please, I only want to help. If the skin is broken, it might - "

"It wasn't broken, I can tell. Now just - "

"Dean," said Hermione, sharing a hesitant look of agreement with her roommate. "Lavender's right. It's best if we have a look. There's no one else around. Sister Owens shooed them all away."

Dean sighed for a moment and said nothing. Lavender seemed to take this to indicate his agreement and slowly began to lift up the back of his shirt. Dean made no move to stop her.

"Oh, God," she said and quickly put the shirt back down again. "They're _beasts_!"

She turned back to look at Hermione only to find that her face had turned the color of wax. She quickly clutched hold of her stomach and bolted for the building.

"That bad?" asked Dean, with a half-smile.

"Well, you're right," said Lavender, trying to sound better than she felt. "I suppose the skin is not broken."

"Honestly, Lavender, I've had worse scrapes playing football. You should see the scar on my - "

"This wasn't football!" Lavender's blue eyes quickly filled with tears. "This - this - " She balled her fists in her lap in frustration.

Before he had realized what he was doing, Dean had placed a hand on her shoulder. Lavender looked up at him, tears falling down her cheeks but her eyes slightly surprised.

"I would have thought you would know by now," said Dean darkly, "everything about this place is mean and cruel."

Lavender looked up at him for another long moment.

"No," she finally said. "Not everything."

And then without leaving his eyes, Lavender gently placed the tips of her fingers in Dean's palm. He looked at her in turn for a moment longer, then slowly closed his hand around hers.

* * *

Snape looked down at his own hand: wiry, thin, and ghostly-white as he replaced the long cane into the drawer by the side of his desk. The hand was trembling again. Snape quickly grabbed it with the other, as though to both stop the trembling and force down with it the growing unease in his heart.

He wasn't old, Snape decided. How had he suddenly become so weak? He started to think more seriously than he had before that perhaps he should go to seek a doctor. The symptoms could be the sign of something more serious, after all. Yet still something inside him continued to resist. Admitting his illness to others, to say nothing of himself, would seem so weak when he was needed to be so strong.

The shaking had started again when he was caning the Thomas boy. Perhaps it was the exertion that did it. But no, Snape decided, that couldn't be right. He still ran twice around the barb-wired perimeter of the school each morning and felt no strain from that. Perhaps it was the conflict in his heart that had brought on his condition again, Snape decided, but this idea terrified him even more. This was a prison school, after all. How could a prison school operate if not for the ever-present scepter of corporal punishment? He could have hit Thomas much harder if he'd wanted to and it was not as though the boy had done nothing to deserve it after all. Could it be, Snape wondered, that he himself had gone soft?

The trembling started again without warning. This time it was not just in Snape's hands but all over his body. A sudden image arose in his mind of Granger and her group of insubordinates raiding his office, ridiculing his ineffectual protests, tying him up like a mutinous captain, and laughing as they burned down the school and escaped. Then another image exploded unbidden into Snape's mind: he was standing in front of a large, burning mansion, screaming as zealous figures in many-colored robes ran chaotically through once-beautiful gardens, struggling against ropes that had suddenly curled around his body, watching powerlessly as his parents were carried out from the house in the arms of the crowd, crying their terrified but futile protests.

Snape took a deep breath and forced himself to stay calm. He reassured himself that the illusion wasn't real, that no such place existed, that his parents, as he knew full well, were still safe and sound in their home. He was not sure where the mental image had come from or how it had suddenly presented itself in his mind. Could he be going mad?

The question still hung sharply in Snape's mind as he heard slow, measured footsteps approaching his office. He knew that it would be Sister Umbridge returning and he was sure he could not afford to succumb to an attack in front of her. He forced his heart to stop pounding and his mind to clear. By the time the nun had opened the door without knocking, Snape had found his stoic face once more.

"Are you quite all right, Headmaster?"

Snape felt a sudden unexplained rush of dislike as he looked down at Umbridge's mouse-like head and listened to her sickly falsely-sweet voice. He wasn't sure quite what had given rise to the feeling and he quickly decided it was both inappropriate and unwelcome. The next moment he realized that he had not responded to Umbridge's question and that her face seemed frozen in a plastic smile.

"I'm - I'm fine, thank you, Sister," he managed in a slightly forced voice.

"Are you quite sure?" cooed Umbridge, looking searchingly into his eyes as though trying to fathom some undeclared secret. "Running this sort of school is such an enormous responsibility. If you were to suddenly grow unwell, well - " Umbridge paused. "We definitely wouldn't want that to happen now, would we?"

"No," replied Snape with a little more authority. "No, we wouldn't."

Umbridge looked at him for a moment longer and then turned her head away and walked toward Snape's desk, sitting down behind it. Snape suppressed another rush of dislike at the presumptuous way in which she had taken his headmaster's chair but he succeeded in forcing it down more quickly than he had the first time.

"I've told the Granger girl that we're giving her until tomorrow to bring us the names of the other students. I'm sure you'll agree that I have been most generous."

"Indeed." Snape straightened himself up. "Perhaps _too _generous," he added icily, and not without a note of challenge.

"I think not," replied Umbridge vacantly, either not noticing or choosing to ignore Snape's tone. "She is a stubborn creature but given time for her despair to set in, she might then be more likely to come to her senses. She is also likely to remain less defiant if she feels we are being more lenient than we might."

"And supposing Miss Granger comes forward with the information you request, what then?"

Umbridge smiled again. "I believe you can leave that to me, Headmaster."

Snape considered for a moment whether Umbridge had the authority to keep him out of disciplinary decisions altogether and briefly considered mentioning it but something made him refrain.

"You've done very well, Headmaster," said Umbridge sweetly, smiling as though at his non-response. "I feel quite confident that - "

Umbridge broke off suddenly, her smile fading. Her eyes wandered to another part of the office and she briefly touched the side of her ear as though listening to something.

"Are you quite all right, Sister?" asked Snape. "Perhaps it is I who should be concerned with _your_ well-being."

"Quite all right, I assure you, Headmaster," replied Umbridge after a moment's pause, but her smile did not return. "Perhaps I will consider your suggestion," she said, as though her mind were elsewhere. "Perhaps a larger change of plan is in order, in fact. I will keep you informed."

Snape frowned, baffled at Umbridge's sudden, unexpected behavior. Before he could reply, however, the nun had gotten quickly to her feet and had left his office.

* * *

Hermione continued to sit on the toilet long after she had disgorged her lunch into its bowels. She knew that she should have gotten up and immediately returned to Lavender and Dean, yet her body had seemed to decide of its own accord that it had taken enough abuse and that, barring any attempts for her forcible removal (and Hermione had no illusions that she would not be allowed to remain locked away in a cubicle forever), she simply could not budge.

The outer door opened. Hermione felt her hands clench and her heart begin to pound loudly. She tried to force herself to stay calm; it was probably just another student. Hermione checked that the latch on her end of the cubicle was securely fastened and tried to reassure herself that she could get through all this somehow. She looked up at the makeshift wooden walls surrounding her and felt her mind sinking into the ravine again. She remembered vividly the desperate fear that had seemed to consume her when she had finished burning down that house: how she hadn't been able to eat or sleep for days, filled with remorse and fear, how it had finally seemed a relief when the police had found out it had been her. At least then her fate had been clear. Now, she had no idea what she could possibly do. Umbridge had her completely trapped, which was exactly what she had intended. On the one hand, she couldn't turn in the other members of the group but on the other, she couldn't continue to see her friends suffer.

Light footsteps snapped Hermione's attention quickly back to the present. Whomever had just entered the girls' room was not, in fact, going about their business but was continuing to creep forward gingerly. She had now seemed to stop right in front of Hermione's stall.

Hermione began breathing quickly again. She considered whether she should open her mouth to say something when an unmistakably familiar small girl's voice called out:

"Hermione?"

It was Arabella.

Hermione was too shocked to respond for the moment. She wondered whether she should pretend that she wasn't there when Arabella said again:

"Hermione, I know you're in there! Don't pretend you're not. You can't stay in there forever."

"Arabella, go away!"

"No!" came the defiant response. "I'm not leaving unless you come with me!"

"Are you_ mad_? You can't be with - Umbridge - there could be cameras in here, did you think of that?"

"There aren't," replied Arabella, matter-of-factly. "I checked."

"But you can't be - don't you - we can't be seen together, _do you know that?"_

"No."

Hermione sighed heavily and then forced her voice lower.

"Umbridge doesn't know you were in the group and if they find us talking, they're going to suspect you were!"

"I don't care!"

"Arabella, don't you understand? You don't think they're going to hurt you just because you're little and you're a girl? They're far worse than that!"

"I didn't say I thought that and I don't think that! In fact, me and Dennis have been talking and we think we're just going to go and tell Snape we were in the group. That way, no one else is going to get hurt."

"No, Arabella! _No, no, no! _Do you think they won't hurt you just because you tell them? It's all _lies_! They're just trying to lure us all out and then they're going to do even worse things to us!"

"Did you ever think about why, Hermione? Why is it that a group of kids making wands out of sticks is so threatening to them?"

"Because they think we're devil worshippers or something. God only knows how these people think! That's not the point, we've - "

"But it _is_ the point, Hermione! Don't you see they're afraid of us? Don't you see they're afraid of us because we've become something _human_? Something not beaten down, something that still has a will to fight and to live! Do you know why I'm in this prison, Hermione?"

"No, Arabella, and I don't want to - "

"I killed my father."

There was a sudden, deafening silence in the bathroom. Hermione was very sure she was going to be sick again.

"He would come home from the pub - drunk," Arabella went on, her voice suddenly very quiet. "It wasn't every day he did it; mostly on weekends, although it started to get worse towards the end. He could be quite nice and kind otherwise. But after he had been drinking, he could never see too much sense. The same thing would happen nearly every time: my mother would complain that he'd been too long, that he was never home with the family, then they would get into a row, then he would start to hit her, sometimes with his hand, sometimes with whatever else was handy. I would cry at him to stop but he wouldn't listen. I would even beat him with my fists but you can imagine how much that helped. Then one day, they had a row in the kitchen. My father hit her hard with a rolling pin - and he kept hitting her, on the back, on the head. I was trying to grab onto him to make him stop but he just ignored me. My mother kept screaming. It was horrible. Finally, I saw a knife on the table, a sort of long sharp knife that my mother always used to cut big vegetables. I picked it up and plunged it into his back. I was just trying to stop him. He turned around and looked at me. He was so surprised. I - I - I don't think I killed him then, but I - I couldn't stop." Arabella started to sob. "I just kept on striking him with the knife. I think my mother tried to stop me but it was too late. All I could remember was his blood all over my hands and my shirt, I - "

Arabella finally stopped talking. Hermione sat dumbstruck on the toilet for another moment, then stood up, pulled up her trousers, and opened the door. She pulled Arabella's head to her chest, feeling once again the now unfamiliar sensation of human touch and let the girl cry the rest of her tears into her pullover. When she was finished, Hermione crouched down so that her face was across from her short friend and said softly:

"Oh, Arabella, how did you ever end up here? Surely the police must have understood. Surely your mother - "

But Arabella shook her head.

"They pretended pity, of course, but I think they were terrified of me. Even my mother. She could never see what my father did wrong; she would always make excuses for him even when he hurt her. They justified putting me here because it was nicer than a juvenile prison; I suppose it was because it sounded nicer to them. I don't think it can really be nicer, though."

"It probably isn't," said Hermione sighing.

Arabella wiped her tears away in the sleeve of her shirt and looked up at her older friend.

"Do you see why we've got to tell them now? Do you understand?"

"I - I -_no_!" said Hermione suddenly. "No, I don't understand!"

Arabella looked up at Hermione pityingly.

"Because our group was the first thing in a long time that's made me feel like a real person again, that's made me feel something other than - than - than a _killer_, all right? I can survive whatever they do to me but I can't survive not being worth anything again."

"B - but, Arabella, we can't actually _continue _the group now. I mean, if nothing else..."

Hermione paused as she looked down into the younger girl's dark brown eyes, the trust and hope within them completely transparent. She remembered how she had written in her diary almost exactly the same thing that Arabella had just told her, about feeling human again, about feeling something other than a criminal or a reject, about having a real gift.

And sharing it with others.

And just as though she could hear Hermione's thoughts in her head, Arabella added quietly:

"This isn't just about you, Hermione, it's about all of us. And you are not alone."

Hermione paused for a moment, then nodded, almost imperceptibly.

Arabella nodded, too, and they hugged one last time. They were still in each other's embrace when a loud buzzer outside signaled the end of the students' brief and constrained time in the playground. They both turned to leave but Hermione took hold of Arabella's arm at the last minute.

"Arabella, just - just don't do anything yet, all right? Promise me? Umbridge gave us until tomorrow before she starts doing anything to Colin."

Arabella looked up questioningly at Hermione for a moment, and then nodded.

"All right, until this time tomorrow then, but not a moment longer."

Hermione nodded herself and the two girls left the bathroom.

* * *

_1 December 1996_

_I'm not really sure what more to write. I'm still convinced we're in a horrible pickle now, though somehow I can't help but feel somewhat encouraged after my talk with Arabella this afternoon. At least it seems we weren't discovered (so far, that is)._

_I'm not sure at all what to make of Lavender. I think she may have really gone mad. I thought she would try and talk to me and I was thinking of all sorts of ways I could fend her off. (Of course, I'm trying to remind myself that Arabella was right, really. I shouldn't try and do everything by myself and it feels better knowing that, really. I suppose I'd been so used to only trusting and depending on myself for so long. But I still didn't want to talk to Lavender or listen to any of her annoying and no doubt futile suggestions for what we should do next)._

_But still, it seems I don't have to worry about that after all. She hasn't said a word to me all day. She had a funny smile on her face all during Sister Barnes' lesson this afternoon. It was so noticeable that the dragon queen herself came over and asked her what she was so happy about (I'm sure Sister Barnes couldn't possibly imagine happiness like that. Perhaps she thinks she'll find it in heaven or some such place; who knows. Perhaps also though, she's been told that Lavender was part of the group. Yes, I suppose on thinking about it, that must be the case). At any rate, just as I was wondering what Lavender was so happy about, she spent most of the time between lessons crying in the bathroom. Then she missed clean-up after dinner. I tried to cover for her; I don't know whether I was successful at that, either. When we got back to the room, she was crying again. I was certain she must have been cross at me but I went over and gave her a hug and she didn't resist. But she still didn't say anything either. She's in bed now, pretending to be asleep, though I doubt she is. I suppose Umbridge has really terrified her. I told her not to get involved but she's so predictably dense. Now, I can't help feeling sorry for her, though not nearly as sorry as I feel for Dean and Arabella, and then not nearly again as sorry as I feel for myself._

Hermione stopped writing for a moment and looked down carefully at the last sentence she had written, wondering whether or not she had succeeded in deceiving herself. She had not written that she also felt horribly guilty and responsible for what had happened to Dean, a terrible consuming guilt. But perhaps, yes, it was still true that she felt sorry for herself as well. Somehow, she couldn't help but think that, under the circumstances, her self-pity might prove healthy, especially if she could transform it into something almost like righteous indignation. Hermione picked up her pen and continued.

_I don't know what I'm going to do now. I felt strangely confident after I talked to Arabella though now I'm not sure why. I feel like there's a death sentence hanging over Colin and I've only got until tomorrow to prevent it. If only I had more time._

Hermione had sooner dotted the letter "i" in time when the lights went out around her. The authoritative voice of Sister Jones rang out in the corridors making it very clear (as if needed be) that it was bedtime. Hermione protectively tucked the diary under the pillow beneath her head as she did each night. But she did not sleep. She did not even close her eyes. All she could do was churn her dilemma around in her head over and over again, each time without result. Even in Hermione's anxious state, fatigue grew around her, slowly but inexorably. Without expecting or wishing it, she finally fell into sleep.

The figure had been waiting in the darkened corner of her room for some time. It had arrived silently and remained unnoticed. The barred windows and locked door had meant nothing to it. Finally, as the soft sound of Hermione's rising and falling breath made it clear that she had last fallen asleep, it silently crept to the side of her bed. It gingerly drew back only the very top corners of her sheets, exposing the diary under the pillow. It waited to make sure that neither Hermione nor Lavender would wake. Then, with the practice of an artist of stealth, it slowly lifted the diary into its hands. A second later, it had disappeared.

* * *

"Ginny?"

The only response was a soft groan.

"Ginny! Come on, you've got to get up; we'll be late for Potions! What are you doing down here anyhow?"

Amanda shook Ginny's prone form and her eyes quickly snapped to life. She grabbed her hands around one of the cushions and looked at it closely, as though surprised to see it. She then looked back up at her roommate.

"Come on!" repeated Amanda again. "We'll be late!"

Ginny looked quickly around the common room as though there was something she had lost.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. "What about - did he - where's Harry?"

Ginny tried to conceal her alarm as an unpleasant fear formed in her mind.

"Harry?" asked Amanda. "Who's Harry? Not Harry Brown, the second year? What do you - "

"No, Harry!" said Ginny, more loudly, panic rising in her voice. "Harry Potter!"

"Harry_ Potter_?" repeated Amanda, her face creasing in confusion. "Who - wait, Ginny, where are you going? We're going to be late!"

But Ginny was on her feet. Not even brushing back her matted, slept-on hair and paying little attention to the fact that she was still wearing the creased robes she had slept in on the sofa the night before, she tore out of the portrait hole and ran down the corridors, her mind spinning much faster than it could tell her legs to carry her. Panic and despair threatened to explode forth from her heart and tears gush from her eyes but she forced all of them down: she needed to remain calm. There was too much at stake for her to collapse now. Far too much depended on her.

Ginny was still trying to calm herself when she realized she was running aimlessly. It had seemed more important for the moment for her to get away from Amanda and the unwanted questions of any of her other housemates than it had been to think about where she needed to go. When she finally reached a dead end, Ginny forced herself to turn around and head back in the direction of Dumbledore's office. She took great gulps of air as she felt a stitch grow in her side from the hard purposeless running. She would talk to Dumbledore: he would have a plan. He would get Harry back. He would get everyone back. They knew everything now; everyone knew everything. They were close to winning. It wouldn't be long before all of Voldemort's desperate acts were finished.

Ginny tried to tell herself all of these things but she could not keep a cacophony of doubting voices from forming a brash chorus in her mind. She ran again, clenching her hands into purposeful fists, hoping that the voices would go away, that she could keep herself from falling into an abyss of despair.

Ginny had nearly reached the office when a sober voice in her head silenced all of the others. It reminded her that if Harry was no longer at Hogwarts - or in the mundane world at all - then it was highly unlikely that Dumbledore would be still be around himself. Hadn't Sirius heard Malfoy and Wormtail say unmistakably that they were planning to get rid of both he and Professor Lupin? Surely if they had banished Harry, they wouldn't have allowed them to remain, would they?

At this thought, Ginny came to a quick stop, her feet sliding awkwardly on the polished stone surface of the corridor. A short distance away from the stone gargoyle, she regarded it cautiously: there was no telling who or what was in that office now. But where could she go then?

Of course, she realized to herself with a clarity borne of necessity. Sirius. _He_ can't have been banished. The Death Eaters didn't know how.

Ginny tore back down the corridor in the direction she had come. She bounded down the stairs and ran up the same hallway Harry had crossed the night before, the trace of his footsteps now absent even from the cold, watchful eyes of the castle walls themselves. She sprinted into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and ran panting up the small staircase to the office of Professor Janus. The door was closed, which made Ginny slightly more worried. She couldn't remember it having been shut at any other time during its present occupant's tenure at the school, probably because he had never really slept.

There was no answer right away. Ginny felt her heart beat even faster than it had while she had been running. She banged loudly and impatiently on the door again and did not stop. After what seemed like a knuckle bleeding eternity, the door opened.

"Miss Weasley! Indeed!" declared the strident masculine voice of Professor Grubbly-Plank. "What in Merlin's name is all the racket about?"

"Where's Professor Janus?" Ginny demanded shortly, still breathless.

"Be careful of your tone, girl!" came the reply. "And what is it that you're so out of breath about?"

"Where is he?" repeated Ginny, not finding herself in the mood for civilities.

Professor Grubbly-Plank looked Ginny up and down in a disconcerted manner.

"Professor Janus has been taken ill. Professor Umbridge just called me this morning to - "

"_Professor __who_?" hissed Ginny. Where just a moment before she had been unable to stop breathing, she now found herself scarcely able to take in a breath at all.

"Professor Umbridge!" repeated Grubbly-Plank with difficulty. "The headmistress of this school. If you - "

But Ginny had heard enough. Leaning onto the railing outside the office for support, she forced herself back down the stairs.

"Where are you off to now?" demanded Grubbly-Plank, her lilt still aroused. "Come back here and speak to me with a civil tongue, Miss Weasley! Whatever is the matter with you?"

But Ginny ignored Grubbly-Plank completely. She reached the classroom door and, panting again, pushed it open, running back out in the direction she had come.

Sirius gone? It scarcely bore thinking about. Perhaps the Death Eaters had found a way to get rid of him after all. Then Ginny really would be the only one.

Trying to shake off the thought, Ginny ran up the stairs back to Dumbledore's office, her mind racing with possibilities and fears. Umbridge hadn't been able to get into Dumbledore's office before, had she? But that was before Voldemort had learned how to make people disappear, an ugly voice reminded her.

Ginny's rapid thoughts were stopped as she mounted the stairs and found herself standing in front of the stone gargoyle.

"Sherbet Lemon!" she shouted.

The gargoyle did not move.

"Fizzing Whizzbees!" Ginny yelled again. "Treacle Tarts! Custard Pudding! Marmite Pie! Flam - "

The gargoyle sprang open.

Ginny looked at the door for a moment, baffled, but then started to move onto the winding staircase. She quickly noticed, however, that it was running downward and, as she looked up, she saw why: like a horrible scepter, Dolores Umbridge was descending to the foot of the stairs. Ginny stepped back slowly as Umbridge walked out into the corridor wearing the ill-fitting robes of a Hogwarts headmistress and her most cruelly false smile.

"Why, Miss Weasley, whatever seems to be troubling you so? I've only just finished speaking to Professor Grubbly-Plank by Floo. She was most distressed about your uncharacteristically rude behavior to her. Have you come here to explain yourself?"

If Ginny was fazed by Umbridge's wide innocent eyes and sugary voice, she did not show it. Without hesitation, she took out her wand and aimed it at the interloping headmistress.

"Where's Professor Dumbledore? _Where's Harry? _What have you done with them?"

"My dear child," purred Umbridge. "Whatever is the matter with you? And who are these people you're talking about? Normally pointing a wand at a Hogwarts professor would be an expellable offense but I'll admit I'm predisposed to show you some sympathy in this case. Very obviously, you are not well. Perhaps it would be best if you went to see Madam Pomfrey. I fear - "

"_There is nothing wrong with me!" _spat Ginny through gritted teeth. "Now I'll ask you one more time: _where_ is Professor Dumbledore? What have you done with him?"

"I'm afraid there's no such person as Professor Dumbledore. Perhaps you could enlighten me - "

"Professor Dumbledore is the rightful headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, nemesis of dark wizards everywhere, champion of Muggle-borns, the conscience of the wizarding world! And you're nothing but a useless old bag who was put out to pasture by your superiors. But Voldemort has found other uses for you, hasn't he? DON'T LIE TO ME!"

Umbridge's smile faded quickly. "I regret to say Miss Weasley that you seem, once again, to be slipping into your fantasies about Muggle-borns at Hogwarts. I'm afraid that if you cannot stop these lies, I may have no choice but to schedule you for another round of detentions."

"_Lies?"_repeated Ginny. "You would know! And it doesn't matter how many you tell, _I'll _never believe they're the truth! You just arrived here and I've never been in your office for any detention!"

"Oh, my dear child," replied Umbridge, her smile returning. "Are you so very sure? Couldn't it be, instead, that you are suffering from a slight loss of memory?"

Ginny was about to respond when her wrist exploded with pain. She looked down at the back of her hand and saw in horror that a scar was forming, a set of blood red lines in her own handwriting that read:

_THERE IS NO MUGGLE-BORN MAGIC_

Ginny rubbed her other thumb over the words as if, in doing so, she could prove that they were not real but the pain in her sensitive hand only increased.

She looked up at Umbridge whose smile had taken on a distinctly cruel and nasty character.

"_How did you_..."

"_I _did nothing, Miss Weasley. You made those marks. Can't you see? I'm so glad you've recovered your memories. I'll see you again on Monday at 8 o'clock in my office. And this time, we'll try to make sure you don't forget quite so easily."

* * *

_"You should be the first, Miss Granger. After all, as you said, it was your group; the burden of punishment must fall first on you." Sister Umbridge roughly took hold of Hermione's wrist with one hand and primed the needle with the other._

_"Stop! What are you doing?" Hermione forced her hand away and tried to sit up._

_"Professor Snape!" cried Umbridge._

_Professor? thought Hermione. _

_Snape stepped forward from where he had been standing in the corner. There was an odd, glazed over look in his eyes as if they didn't belong to him._

_"Headmaster, please!" cried Hermione. "Don't do this!"_

_At this, a fire seemed to flicker into Snape's eyes which only a moment before had seemed lifeless. His lips curling into a snarl, he roughly pushed Hermione back down onto the bed._

_"That's right, Professor," said Umbridge, shifting in the strange black robes she was now wearing. "Hold her still."_

_Hermione struggled in place but Snape's grip on her shoulders only intensified and now the fierceness in his eyes was unmistakable. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the cool of the needle plunge into the side of her head._

And then woke up.

Sunlight streamed in through the bars of her window. She looked across and quickly saw that Lavender was still sleeping in her bed. In the strange moment of wakefulness that came after sleep, Hermione tried to cling onto her nightmare as horrible as it had been. Hermione did not particularly believe in intuition but yet there seemed to be some important detail her mind was telling her to remember amidst all of the pain and horror her sleeping self had experienced. But whatever that detail had been, it had now seemed to vanish from her mind, much like the dream itself.

Then another memory returned to Hermione, almost as though it had been recalled from a corner of her brain rather than from the experiences of her body and mind. She had been caught trying to escape. She and the others: Dean, Lavender, Colin, Dennis - and Arabella.

It had been her idea, of course. And that's what made it seem most painful. Barbed wire ringed around the outside of the school but underneath the fence there had been a gap. It had been just behind the shed where the playground equipment was kept, not much of a gap but the ground had been soft just below it. Dean had found it when he had gone to get the footballs from the shed and he had told her about it. It had been her idea to put the plan into action. She thought she would be so clever. All that was needed was to wait for a few solid days of rain (a fairly frequent occurrence) and then they could make their move. She had finally waited until a Friday evening when the staff had been in a meeting and only Sister Lewis had been on duty. Then they had all assembled behind the shed and tried to dig their way out.

They knew there were guards outside the fence, watching the exits to the school, and a few inside, too, of course, but for some reason, Hermione had felt so sure they wouldn't be watching the area behind the shed. It seemed totally foolhardy now. Hermione wondered why she hadn't realized it at the time even when Dean had repeatedly cautioned her against taking any action. And even if they had succeeded, where would they have gone? What kind of existence could they have reasonably have expected to have enjoyed - as fugitives? It wasn't like their parents could have just welcomed them back in with open arms as if the whole thing had been some horrible nightmare best forgotten.

Yet Hermione now realized she had thought of none of these things at the time. She had just been so desperate to escape, so desperate to leave this horrible school somehow.

The buzzer rang loudly, startling Hermione out of her thoughts. Lavender groaned in protest and, for once, Hermione found herself feeling sorry for her roommate. She slowly got out of her bed and picked up her wash things from her side table. As she did so, her head turned, almost of its own accord, to her pillow. Hermione looked at it for a moment, fighting back the strange sense that there was something else she'd forgotten. Then, as though it would rid of her of any lingering impression of forgetfulness, she fluffed her pillow and straightened her sheets.

As she washed herself under the permanently lukewarm school water and gathered with the other girls on the floor to begin the Saturday morning cleaning of the dormitories under the watchful eye of Sister Jones, Hermione found her mind wandering painfully back to the memories of the recent few days.

They had caught them all easily, of course. They had barely begun to use their makeshift trowels to dig. The students only discovered later that there were hidden cameras everywhere. The nuns had known Hermione was the ringleader, of course. They had seen them talking. They had brought in her parents and then this Sister Umbridge - the specialist nun for dealing with disciplinary matters. They had made all manner of threats to her and the others but, in the end, they had only settled for one punishment - caning Dean. But Hermione had no illusions that it had been calculated to inflict as much pain on her as it had on him: she had begged with Umbridge that it was she who had been responsible, not Dean. They had wanted her to feel what the consequences of her actions would be on the others who had supported her. They had wanted her to feel guilty, although Hermione could not but think that they couldn't possibly have appreciated themselves what it meant to her for a friend to suffer for her own actions.

Still, at least it was over now. Umbridge had left and Snape had made it clear that there would be no further punishment, although he had added, his beady eyes flickering back and forth furiously, that the school would be keeping a very close eye on the six of them. Colin had also told Hermione that the area behind the shed had now been walled off and Hermione had little doubt that the school authorities had made sure that there would be no future opportunity for her - or any of the other students - to attempt escape. They were stuck here in this school and although Snape had not said so, Hermione could not help but think that it was now very uncertain when they would ever be released - and where they would be released to.

Hermione's ruminations carried her through most of morning study in the library, a time she usually found she enjoyed. Catherine was ill with the flu and still in the hospital wing. At least it had seemed to convince everyone that she had not been mixed up in all this mess but Hermione still found herself hesitant to go and see her friend in case it would cast suspicion on her. When the lunch buzzer sounded the end of the study session, Hermione still remained in the library for as long as she could, dreading any social contact. Eventually Sister Trent shooed her out. She slowly made her way downstairs to the kitchen and put a bit of food on her plate, though she was sure she didn't feel like eating anything. She went into the dining hall to find Lavender and Dean sitting together. Lavender still seemed very talkative even after all that had happened the day before. Hermione considered sitting next to them but then thought better of it. Arabella was sitting with a group of girls her age. She caught Hermione's eye but Hermione shook her head slightly and went over to sit at a table by herself, hoping that no one would come to bother her.

And no one did.

Saturdays meant a longer time on the playground and then afternoon sports. This, too, Hermione normally welcomed as much for the deceptive freedom that came from being outside in the fresh air as anything else. But, on this day, as soon as Hermione walked out and felt the damp chill of a British December creep into her bones, she very much wished to find herself back in the comparatively warm library. She also felt little desire to stay near the crowds of her playing schoolmates whose eyes she did not want to meet.

But Hermione knew she was not likely to slip unnoticed anywhere now. She sighed and sat down on a bench, wrapping her arms around herself to keep from feeling cold, and wishing the noisy sounds around her into the background. She found her attention wandering to a long gnarled stick next to the bench. There was something about it that seemed oddly familiar. Hermione frowned, then jumped as a hand moved into her field of sight and closed around the stick.

"I suppose it is a bit funny-looking."

Hermione looked up as the owner of the hand sat down beside her, still looking at the stick thoughtfully. She supposed it must have been the shock of all that had happened during the past few days but for a very odd moment, Hermione had the unmistakable feeling that she did not recognize the person who had sat down next to her. But then her best friend in the school managed a small smile.

"Don't look so surprised," said Harry. "I came over to see how you were doing. I tried to get your attention at lunch to come and sit next to me but you weren't looking."

"I - I - " Hermione found herself staring at Harry in disbelief.

Harry looked around furtively and leaned forward.

"Is everything all right, Hermione? I mean - you haven't even talked to me since, well..." Harry's voice trailed off.

Hermione suddenly felt anxious.

"Harry, maybe we shouldn't be seen together talking like this. They'll think you had something to do with the escape, too. They'll think - "

But Harry shook his head.

"We've been best mates ever since they first put us in this place, Hermione. Everyone knows that. Besides," he added, his jaw hardening. "If they think I'm going to walk away from my friends, they're wrong."

Hermione must have looked stricken then for Harry frowned. She tried to open her mouth to respond but a horrible lump formed inside it. Hermione heard herself sniffle and felt tears swarming in her eyes even as she tried to restrain them. Through her now blurred vision, Hermione could see that Harry seemed a little surprised at her sudden outburst and was very uncertain how to respond. He settled for a tentative hand on her shoulder but Hermione quickly pulled him into a hug. To his credit, Harry did not flinch but held onto her protectively. Hermione stopped trying to hold back her tears and let them roll in a flood down her cheeks and into Harry's pullover. Hermione was not sure why but she felt as though something that had been strangling her was finally let free.

"Oh, Harry," she sobbed. "I - I - I'm s-so glad you're here."

* * *

The remaining students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry awoke on Sunday morning to find a thick carpet of snow covering the grounds. The weather owls had reported it that it would only get heavier as the day went on. Most of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were still to be found indoors, a little grateful for the chance to study for their pre-Christmas holiday exams but mostly disappointed that the weather had proven too awful even for the hardy team.

A Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw, however, bundled up from head to toe and sustained with all the warming charms they could find, had made their way out onto the school grounds, arm in arm. They had passed alongside the lake and were heading in the direction of the small cluster of trees on the far bank.

"C-c-c-an w-w-we go in now, p-p-please?" said Neville, moving his frozen jaw only with great effort and pain.

"But we're nearly there!" protested Luna, sounding as though she were out for a walk on a pleasant spring day.

"I-I-I'm f-f-f-f-reezing! C-c-can't w-w-w-we come out a-another t-t-t-t-ime?"

"No, I told you, Neville. The spotted gumbleweek only comes out when it's very cold and snowy. Otherwise, it hides. We'll never be able to see it on a warm day."

"C-c-c-can't we go out when it's w-w-w-warmer and l-l-l-look for it in its hiding place?"

"It's hiding place is in another dimension, Neville. Besides, it gets even colder there; I don't think you'd like it."

"H-h-h-ow do you know this, a-a-a-a-anyway?"

"I read about it. _The Quibbler_ has been running a story about them for months."

Neville remained silent after that. Luna's spirits seem to only get higher as they trudged through the small forest and even deeper snow, her gloved hand in Neville's, even though they had yet to spot a single bird of any variety, much less something from another dimension.

But as they reached the clearing on the other side and the tall spires of the school came once again into view, Neville thought he heard another sound.

"Stop!" he said immediately to Luna.

Luna stopped walking.

"What is it? Did you spot one?" she added excitedly.

Neville put a finger to his lips.

"I thought I heard something."

But now it seemed there was only silence. It must have been the noisy sound of their boots on the snow or the rustling of the leaves in the windy storm that had caught Neville's attention. He was about to continue walking forward when he heard the sound again. It sounded like a moan or a cry.

"Did you hear that?" he said to Luna.

In response, Luna jumped up and down and squealed in delight.

"That's it!" she exclaimed. "That's a Gumbleweek! Oh, Neville, you're so clever!" Luna reached over and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "Now," she added quickly, taking hold of his arm. "We must be very quiet. Come with me."

Luna led Neville into another side of woods, which he was fairly certain was not in the direction of the cry. Nevertheless, he reluctantly followed. They had only walked a few steps, however, when there was another moan. This time Neville was certain that it had not issued from a multi-dimensional bird.

Neville tugged back at Luna's arm and pulled her in the direction of the beech tree at the clearing.

"Wait! Where are we going?" she demanded. "Don't be so noisy. You'll scare it away! Neville! Where - "

But Neville continued to tug hold of Luna's arm and, ignoring her protests, pulled her around the beech tree so that they were facing the side near the clearing. Only when they arrived did he let go.

There, lying in a heap of folded robes and blankets, her hair and eyelashes covered with snow, lay Ginny, a handkerchief at her frozen face. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her occasional cries were punctuated with cathartic sobs. When she saw Neville and Luna, however, she looked surprised and straightened up slightly.

"Ginny, what's the matter?" asked Neville, leaning down beside her.

Ginny looked up at Neville, her bloodshot eyes in indecision.

"It's okay," she finally said, very weakly. "I - I - just - I just need to be alone - please. Thank you but there's nothing you can do or say to help me. You wouldn't understand. No one will understand."

"You can't talk like that!" protested Neville. "We're your friends! Let us help you."

"And you can't stay out here in the cold! It's freezing!" declared Luna, kneeling down beside her and apparently not noticing the look of mild disbelief Neville had just shot in her direction. "And if the Gumbleweeks find you, they might drag you off to their lair! They're stronger than they look, you know."

"I'll be all right," muttered Ginny, very unconvincingly.

"Just tell us what's wrong," said Luna, her eyes taking on an unusual clarity. "We're not leaving until you do."

Ginny looked as though she was about to get up and leave but then she stopped herself and sighed. Her tears ceased momentarily and her eyes took on a faraway look.

"Two nights ago - I sat here - with Harry. I - I was never cold when he was with me. He took me into his arms and told me to sleep. He said that no one else would disappear but then _he _did!"

"Wh - who's Harry?" asked Neville, sensing even as he did so that this was not the right question to ask.

Ginny rounded on him sharply.

"Only your roommate! One of your best friends for six years! But _you_ don't remember him, do you? None of you are going to remember him!"

Ginny began to wail and fresh tears fell down her face.

"You don't understand! Neither of you understand! And everything's ruined now; everything is one big horrible mess; everyone's left and no one remembers but me!"

Neville looked both puzzled and stricken.

"I - I - I'm sorry, Ginny, I - " He looked across helplessly at Luna and was surprised to see a sage-like expression pass over her face. He had only seen Luna look this way a few times since he had known her and he wasn't altogether sure it was a good sign.

"Don't you see, Neville?" she said. "She has insights we don't. She remembers people who used to be here but have gone."

"What?"

Luna nodded. "Yes. They've been taken by the alien xenophobes, you see. And it all fits together. I always thought your room was a bit large for only three occupants."

"What do you mean? Our room's a matchbox!"

Luna ignored Neville and turned to Ginny.

"Don't cry, Ginny," she said calmly. "I'll help you find your friends. I've read a lot about these aliens and I'm certain we can make them see reason."

"There _are_ no aliens!" snapped Ginny in response.

"Well, whoever it is, then. We won't rest until we find them." Luna took Ginny's hand into hers and tapped it affectionately.

Neville was still extremely confused but, under the circumstances, he thought he had better nod.

"You're not alone, Ginny," he said. "We might not understand what's going on but you're not alone. We're still your friends."

Luna nodded. "Come on," she said. "Let's go back inside. I don't think the Gumbleweek is going to come out today after all."

Ginny looked up at Luna, then back at Neville. Then she suddenly flung herself into Luna's arms and began crying again. Luna held onto her silently for several minutes in the blowing cold and snow, Neville looking on. Then all three of them slowly got to their feet and walked back to the school.

* * *

The door to the Room of Requirement opened and Umbridge entered.

"Your report," said Malfoy brusquely, his face half-covered in darkness.

"The school is secure. The staff does not suspect anything."

Malfoy paused significantly.

"We must continue to proceed very cautiously, Dolores. We only had to fool one true wizard in the bubble dimension; there are many more here."

"I am not as naïve as you assume."

"I assume nothing."

There was another pause.

"You are aware, of course, that Dumbledore and the werewolf are still unaccounted for," Umbridge went on, a quiver of uncertainty in her voice. "They have not re-appeared in the bubble dimension. And Black has disappeared completely."

"I did not ask for your report on matters of which I am already aware," Malfoy replied impatiently. "What about Ginny? Has she been to see you yet?"

Umbridge smiled sweetly. "Oh, yes. She found me quite quickly, wand in hand. But she didn't get very far."

"What do you mean?" asked Malfoy, with a very slight edge to his voice which Umbridge, consumed for the moment with her own cleverness, appeared to miss.

"I merely reminded her that her memories were slightly confused. That in fact there was no such person as Albus Dumbledore and that there were no such things as Muggle-born witches and wizards."

Malfoy did not respond so Umbridge went on.

"Of course she did not believe me. Her confidence was no doubt buoyed when that idiot hound revealed himself to Potter and she knew she had apprehended the truth all along. So I gave her further reason to doubt. A very simple curse but effective on the naïve mind. She knew I held the wand in my hand but she did not see me flick it; the work is all in the fingers, you see." Umbridge held up her hand, obviously pleased with her success.

"What curse?" said Malfoy in a low voice. "What did you do to her?"

"Just a little reminder that she had been in detention last week after telling her horrible lies. The scar and the pain will be an effective antidote to her bloated self-esteem. And if not that, then I will have to make sure that her new round of detentions next week will leave a particularly lasting impression."

This time, even Umbridge did not fail to notice the venom in Malfoy's voice.

"You will do no such thing," he hissed. "You will reverse the spell you have performed on her and you will cancel all remaining detentions. _Is that understood?"_

"I'm not sure there's a counter-curse," Umbridge replied breezily. "I've never had to use one before. Besides, I am now Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is up to me to decide when and how students shall receive detentions."

There was another, much longer pause.

"I don't think you could have heard me correctly, _Headmistress_," said Malfoy, his teeth clenched. "I gave you an order. Ginny is not to be harmed. She is part of a much larger plan which you do not understand. We need her on our side."

Umbridge's smile faded.

"I think I understand a great deal more than you think!" she declared. "You may have the mind of a powerful wizard in your head but there are far too many teenage hormones in your bloodstream for that mind to function well! Your infatuation with the Weasley girl is endangering everything we have worked for! You may have isolated her from her friends but if you do not break her spirit then she will find a way to grow stronger and resist you. _And if you think she will ever abandon Potter for you then you are very much mistaken!_"

"_CRUCIO!"_

The force of the curse hit Umbridge in the chest and sent her sprawling backward onto the floor of the room. She let out a scream and writhed epileptically, her arms and legs twisting back and forth. Malfoy stood over her, his wand held high like a puppeteer, angry pleasure in his eyes. At last, he released the curse and stepped backward, then folded his arms and waited.

Umbridge's face continued to twitch for several moments longer. The frames of her glasses were broken from the force with which she had hit the floor. Malfoy winced as spittle drooled from the corner of her mouth and down the side of her face.

"You - you _beast!"_ she snarled up at him. "You uncivilized _brute!"_

"You may call me what you like, Dolores," said Malfoy calmly, his anger now sated. "But remember one thing: there is no _we._ You are the servant of Lord Voldemort. And if I fall, then you will fall even harder. So it is very much in your best interest to see that my plan succeeds. _NOW GET UP!"_

Umbridge awkwardly raised herself to a standing position.

"Good," said Malfoy. "Now, I suggest your direct your immediate energies to finding a counter-curse for Ginny's scar. Leave Dumbledore to me. And do not doubt my abilities, Dolores. If you do not succeed, I can assure you the pain you have just experienced will be only the beginning."

Umbridge said nothing in reply, a look of pain and confusion now written over her normally self-assured face. She stared at Malfoy for as long as she dared, then slowly turned around and exited the Room of Requirement.

Malfoy stood by himself, alone for the moment. He wondered why the room was still dark then realized that he didn't really need light. He felt a fresh surge of anger as he thought of Ginny's beautiful hand marred by one of Umbridge's obscene scars. She would truly pay dearly if she did not find a way to remove it without a trace.

She understood so little, of course. Ginny was part of the destiny of wizard kind, a destiny far more glorious than anything Umbridge could comprehend in her pitiful imagination. Still, Malfoy reflected to himself. He needed Umbridge and he needed her bubble world - for the time being. When the time was right, though, and he was ready to make his final triumphant entrance into the world beyond the gateway, he would collapse it. And he would make sure that when he did so, Umbridge was with the mudbloods on the other side.

What did it matter about Dumbledore, Malfoy reassured himself. He was, at best, separated from his power and authority and he still remembered nothing. With any luck, he might even be dead. Potter was helpless and ignorant and split forever from Ginny. It would only be a matter of time before she accepted the fact. There was very little now that could get in the way of his plans.

But there was one thing neither Draco Malfoy nor Lord Voldemort (assuming that one could reasonably be separated from the other) could understand, or had ever understood: there was another strength that his opponents possessed even in their weakest hour. Had he seen Ginny lifted up by her friends and returned to the castle or Hermione cry away her despair into Harry's arms, Malfoy would have dismissed them as displays of the most pathetic sort of weakness, a weakness his opponents nearly always showed him before he sealed their final defeat. But for all his mastery of knowledge and fear, Lord Voldemort had yet to destroy the true love of friendship. And it was in that friendship, however desperate, that the seeds of his final defeat had been sown.


	11. The Gift

**Chapter 11**

**The Gift**

Hermione walked back to her dormitory, fingering the locket her father had just given her. She hoped Lavender wouldn't be there. She very much wanted to be alone. Even on Christmas Day, the students' time was not altogether their own. For one thing, they were expected to give a silly little song and dance performance for the MP who was coming to visit on Boxing Day and Sister Brown had insisted they rehearse that afternoon.

But there were still a few hours left until the rehearsal and Hermione wanted to spend them by herself. She clutched the locket more tightly and tried to restrain herself from crying as she made her way up the stairs to her dormitory. She had only been allowed a precious few hours with her parents that morning and they had been kept under close guard all the time. No doubt she was still considered dangerous after her attempt at escape. But those hours had been happy, if emotional. Hermione tried to let the happiness sustain her rather than wallow in misery and self-pity.

But as soon as she opened the door to her dormitory and found it empty, she found she could no longer keep her tears back. She opened the locket and saw the smiling faces of her parents looking back at her, then she unclasped it and tied it around her neck, taking care to keep it underneath her jersey where no one would be able to ask her about it. The love Hermione took from her family would be her own secret strength.

Hermione allowed her tears to fall for a few more minutes, trying not to think that there was no way the door to her room could be locked from the inside, that Lavender could just walk in at any moment. Finally, however, she forced herself to stop and dry her eyes. She tried to think how much more fortunate she was than Harry who had doubted the Dursleys would come to visit him and had hoped they wouldn't. She didn't like to think who might have been coming to visit Arabella or what they would say.

Deciding that her friends needed comfort more than she, Hermione blew her nose and then looked at herself in the mirror, deciding she could pass as presentable. She was about to leave the room when she noticed something odd.

Hermione was sure that she had made her bed that morning. Sister Barnes was unlikely to have let them get away with anything less in any case. But her sheets and pillow now looked disorderly. Finding irritation and anger close to the surface of her thoughts, Hermione muttered several curses at Lavender and then went to straighten the pillows, less out of an obsession for neatness than from a desire to take control over the one private space she had left. As she did so, however, Hermione felt her hand make contact with something solid under the sheets.

Hermione stopped, her anger quickly fading to curiosity. She looked back over her shoulder and listened to make sure that no one was coming toward her room. On hearing only silence, Hermione gently lifted the covers of her sheets back up again and found, just under her pillow, a small package somewhat clumsily folded up in Father Christmas wrapping paper.

Who would have sent her a present? Hermione wondered. It couldn't have been Harry; he would have never been allowed in the girl's wing. For some reason, Hermione then wondered if it had been Arabella, but surely she would not have been allowed on the older girls' upper floor. Catherine perhaps? But surely she wouldn't hide a present under a pillow. And besides, where would any of her friends have gone to buy her a gift? They had never swapped presents before. Perhaps it was one of the nuns, maybe Sister Owens, someone who secretly commiserated with her. Yet Hermione felt sure that if it had come from a nun, the gift would have been meticulously wrapped. This present had been put together very clumsily - perhaps even by someone who had been in a great hurry.

Her thoughts equal part curiosity and caution, Hermione took the package into her hands and slowly began to unwrap it. She knew as soon as she held it that it must be some kind of a book. It didn't take long for the paper to come all the way off to reveal a plain, slightly worn looking black cloth cover. Hermione opened the first page and a note slipped out, written on a small piece of creamy-white memo paper, the kind that was standard issue to all the students and staff. The note was written very sloppily in ballpoint pen, almost as if its author was unaccustomed to writing, but Hermione managed to make out the words:

_I am returning what would have been taken from you;_

_Open your imagination and you will discover the truth._

The note was not signed. Try as she might, Hermione could think of no one she knew who could have written it. Sweat condensed on her fingers as she turned the first page of the book and read the first few handwritten lines inside, then read them again - and again, until finally her mind could not help but acknowledge its confrontation with the impossible.

"B - but," Hermione said aloud. "_This just can't be_!"

* * *

Ron Weasley sat in the Great Hall across from his sister Ginny. Umbridge had not yet stood up to address the students but they knew better than to make any noise before she did. He had learned as a first year, as many others had before or since, that any talk in the Great Hall before Dolores Umbridge began to speak was punishable by the most wicked of detentions. The Great Hall would remain silent, as it nearly always did, to respect their esteemed headmistress.

It was not the first time Ron had envied Muggles. He didn't know much about them, of course, apart from the stories his father had told them when they were young, stories he forbade them from relating to anyone else for reasons Ron soon understood when he arrived at Hogwarts. But from what he had learned about their eckel-tricity and their funny-looking carriages, it did seem that Muggles mostly enjoyed themselves, which was more than Ron could say for himself.

He had never understood why his parents and elder brothers reminisced so fondly about their times at Hogwarts. Perhaps time had made them forget all of the wretched, terrible things that could happen at the school or perhaps it was simply because Umbridge had not been headmistress at the time.

Ron also envied Muggles for one other thing: there were so many of them and so few of his own kind. The founders of Hogwarts must have been wildly ambitious indeed when they built this enormous school complete with its large and draughty hall. But, of course, as they had been reminded so often in their History of the Oppression of Magic classes, there used to be much more of them. Wizard-kind had been beaten down and killed in large numbers by their intolerant Muggle neighbors. Ron vividly remembered the Salem witch trials the third years were forced to re-enact for the school every year. The "play" was staged complete with real fire which was only extinguished when the hapless student forced to play the part of the burned wizard or witch became sufficiently frantic in their cries for help. As Umbridge herself had so often reminded them, the lessons of history for which their forbearers had suffered and died could hardly be appreciated without experiencing something of their fear.

Ron thought of the bustling crowds each year as he left for school at King's Cross Station, the combination of intimidation and excitement that came from the unusual experience of being surrounded by so many people. He remembered how his father had told him that Muggle schools were enormous. He imagined how easy it would be to make friends in such a school. If one's roommates or classmates were not agreeable, then surely one could find mates elsewhere. Ron didn't want to complain too much: Neville was all right and so was Seamus, even if he did occasionally get on Ron's nerves. But Ron had never really had a close friend at Hogwarts - to say nothing of a girlfriend - and he had to spend far too much time for his liking with his little sister.

Their eyes locked briefly just as Ron prepared to tuck into another Cornish Pastie. His were the first to break the gaze and return to the food in front of him. Ginny seemed to be trying to communicate a lot lately through her eyes and it made Ron feel very uncomfortable. She had spent most of the first term filling Gryffindor Tower with fantastic stories that there were supposed to be Muggles attending Hogwarts and how they could practice magic just like wizards and witches. She even told Ron that he'd had a Muggle girlfriend. First Ron thought she'd been hit from a very powerful curse, probably from Draco Malfoy, who was beginning to look at her in the corridors in a way Ron was sure he didn't like. But when first Madam Pomfrey and then the Healers at St. Mungo's had been unable to find anything wrong with her, Ron started to think that she had just finally cracked under the strain of spending six years in this school with hardly any friends and under Umbridge's horrible thumb. Part of Ron couldn't blame her. Sometimes it felt as if a dementor was permanently watching over the school.

Then just before Christmas, Ginny seemed to get worse. She kept going on about this bloke - what was his name? Henry? Harry! That was it. She said Harry was her boyfriend and Ron's best friend and that You-Know-Who had taken him to another dimension. Ron had been just about to suggest she should be permanently housed at St. Mungo's when Ginny had suddenly stopped talking about this Harry altogether. Her parents had been very worried when they had gone back to the Burrow for Christmas but Ginny had insisted that she'd just been under a lot of strain but that she'd since recovered.

Ron didn't really believe Ginny thought this and he wasn't sure his mother did either. Whenever Ginny had insisted to her mother she was all right, she would look over at Ron and tell him a different story with her eyes. And she had done it again just now. Ron couldn't shake the feeling she was biding her time before she started up on more crazy stories.

His puzzled thoughts were interrupted when Dolores Umbridge slowly stood up from her chair. The students sat rigid to attention. The only sound that could be heard in the room was Professor Flitwick, whose back was turned to Umbridge and who had been carrying on an animated conversation with Professor Harmon, cut silent when the latter frantically pointed up at Umbridge. Flitwick turned around with a horrible look of fear on his face to meet Umbridge's smile.

The diminutive witch could barely be seen above the high table but the students knew better than to make a show of craning their necks. The only part of Umbridge visible during her talks was the black velvet bow she still wore on top of her head.

"I trust you all had an enjoyable Christmas," said the voice from below the bow. "And now it is time for us to begin a new term of lessons. I cannot tell you how happy I am to see that all of you have returned safely. I hope I need not remind you that we live in extremely dangerous times. Indeed, it falls on my sad shoulders to report that one of our number remains missing. Professor Janus, who was last seen in his room shortly before Christmas, seems to have left us for good. While we hope that he will once again return, I'm afraid the prospects of that happy day look rather bleak. I regret that the Minister himself has authorized me to tell you that he has received a ransom note from the Goblin Federation demanding a substantial payment in gold for his release."

At this, a low murmur of alarm rose up from the normally complacent students. Ginny let out something of a derisive snort, however, which fortunately for her, seemed to have been masked by the other noise. Ron looked up and shot her a warning glance but she only smiled sweetly in return.

"Yes, yes, calm yourselves, children, calm yourselves," Umbridge went on in a tone that suggested it was not a request. "Needless to say, Minister Fudge does not negotiate with barbarous half-breeds. I can assure you, however, that he and the Ministry are working tirelessly to break this group and secure the release of Professor Janus. What the rest of us can do is pledge to lend our unswerving obedience to Minister Fudge's War on Miscreant Creatures. We must defend ourselves against the enemy at all costs."

"A bit difficult when you won't teach us any defense spells," muttered Ginny.

Ron's eyes widened in alarm and even Neville, who was sitting next to him, looked over at Ginny in pale shock. Ron was certain that Ginny's remarks wouldn't go completely unnoticed this time. Sure enough, there was an awkward silence as the bow slowly turned in Ginny's direction. Ginny continued to sip her pumpkin juice calmly but Ron could not restrain himself from craning upward just slightly and found Umbridge's steely gaze focused on his sister. There seemed a momentary look of frustration on Umbridge's face, however, and then she went on talking to the room in general.

"No doubt some of you are wondering how we can defend ourselves against this enemy. There may even be some who would mistakenly advocate a return to the primitive practices of our forbearers in teaching a practicum of defensive spells or, Merlin forbid, starting up private defense associations." Umbridge paused and sighed. "My children, not a day passes when I do not regret how your youth has been shortened by this never-ending battle we have been forced to wage against creatures who bear neither our decency nor our intelligence. But it is my duty to warn you that there are traitors in our midst."

This time there was no murmur from the assembled students. It was not the first time Umbridge had mentioned this and her eyes (or rather the bow on the top of her head) never failed to turn in the direction of the small table of Gryffindors whenever she did.

"Yes, I know it is sad." Umbridge sighed again. "But while the goblins still retain control of Gringotts, they have more than enough gold to bribe the weak in mind and spirit. I regret to say that they could not have taken Professor Janus right out from under our very noses without help from someone inside this castle. If you wish to assist the Minister in his noble crusade, then I suggest you remain on the lookout for anything the slightest bit out of the ordinary. Traitors do not wear their true faces like a badge for all to see. It may be something as simple as an offhand remark through which those who are truly disloyal give themselves away. It may well be that your classmates, your teachers, even your closest friends are wizards and witches in name, but not quite in spirit. But if you do suspect anything, don't take matters into your own hands, my children. Be sure and come straight to me."

* * *

Ginny walked quickly but quietly out of the Great Hall. She knew Ron wouldn't say anything to her while they were leaving. No one dared talk after one of Umbridge's "speeches," not while she was still in earshot. She knew Ron was liable to be very unhappy about her caustic remarks during Umbridge's sermon and that he would take the incident as a further excuse to press Ginny on the question of her diseased mind. He was trying to protect her, of course; she knew that. But as far as she was concerned, it wasn't her that needed protecting. Umbridge wouldn't touch her somehow. Ginny had realized that after she had canceled her detentions in December. But Ginny could sense she still wanted to. Someone or something was holding her back. Ginny was more sure than ever that she was meant to have some significant part to play in all this, though now she couldn't begin to think what, just as couldn't think how in Merlin's name she was going to begin to get to the bottom of all this. Ginny also knew she probably couldn't go too far against Umbridge but her little acts of resistance kept her spirit from dying completely and, for now, that was the best she could do.

Ginny paused at the main staircase that led back up to the main floors and then on to Gryffindor Tower. She wasn't sure where she was going but she knew that if she went back up to their common room she would be confronted by Ron. It didn't make much sense to be trying to avoid her own brother indefinitely but she could ill afford to have him scrutinizing her and threatening to send her to St. Mungo's or write to their parents. And he had made it very clear that he wasn't going to even attempt to believe her, especially when Ginny's story became less and less plausible with each new disappearance. All she could do now was bide her time and wait for some sort of opportunity, however remote, to present itself.

Ginny had no sooner finished her thought when she felt a tug on her elbow. She turned quickly around, tensing herself to tell Ron to leave her alone and stop making things worse by attracting the attention of others. She had already begun to open her mouth when she discovered that Ron was nowhere in sight.

"My, we're a little frazzled and jumpy, aren't we? I bet you thought I was Ronald."

"I - "

"I suppose he's trying to get you into all sorts of hospitals, isn't he? Find out what's wrong with you. Some people have no imagination at all."

"Well, Luna, I - "

"Anyhow, I haven't forgotten what you said last December. I couldn't do very much over the holidays. Father and I were off on an ice-fishing expedition in Norway. It's the only time of year the poison-eyed weedfish goes into the lakes and can be caught. The rivers are completely frozen, you see. But now that I'm back, I can do some research."

"Research?"

"Yes, don't you want to find out how the aliens are stealing all your friends?"

Ginny closed her eyes and silently counted to ten.

"Oh, right, I'd forgotten. There are no aliens. Well, extra-dimensional creatures then. Whoever it is, they're up to no good. And we're going to find the counter-curse."

Ginny sighed. "Thank you, Luna, but I'm not sure it will do any good. I've been looking in the library since the beginning of the year. No one knows anything about mass memory charms. No knowledge of it was ever recorded in any books. Of course, I haven't been able to look in the restricted section, but I'm sure we'd never be allowed, not with Umbridge policing the school for _traitors._"

"Oh, dear, I wasn't talking about looking in the library at all. No, I meant in my room."

* * *

Harry drew up alongside Hermione.

"All right?"

"All right."

"You don't look it."

Hermione's eyes darted around furtively.

"Just keep walking and act normal," she muttered.

Harry struggled to keep up with Hermione as a biting winter gale blew in his face. She led him in a circuitous path out toward the edge of the playground.

"That man keeps watching us, watching me more like it," she said.

"What man?"

Hermione grabbed Harry's sleeve and tugged him away from the direction of the playground where he had been staring.

"That guard!"

Harry snatched a quick look back to see a tall guard in uniform, complete with a baton at his waist and a cap that covered his balding hair. His drawn, muscular face was crowned with a severe looking ginger goatee streaked with grey.

"Him?" said Harry.

"Yes," replied Hermione in an even lower voice.

"He's been here since our first year."

"I know but he never used to follow me around like this. It's because I tried to escape."

"Well..." Harry looked a little furtive.

"I know, Harry, you don't have to say. It's just - " Hermione sighed, exasperated. "I need to talk to you about something. I've been trying to get you alone for weeks now and that bloody guard keeps watching me wherever I go."

"Well, we talk every day, Hermione."

Hermione paused and looked at something beyond Harry. Harry turned around to see the guard edging closer toward them. As their eyes met, however, he seemed to turn away and wander back toward the playground.

"At last," muttered Hermione. "Look, Harry," she took hold of his elbow and steered him closer. "I know this is going to sound a bit strange but - oh, _good grief_!"

Harry turned around again to see Dean and Lavender walking quickly toward them. Dean had a football in his hand and looked dressed to play. Harry suppressed a smirk as Hermione tried to wave them away but her ambiguous gesture was interpreted as an invitation to approach. Dean and Lavender quickened their pace.

"Fancy a game, Harry? You promised you'd try out for intramural football this term."

"I don't know, Dean," said Harry reluctantly. "Running around in shorts in January doesn't sound like much fun to me."

"Oh, you won't feel so cold once you get warmed up," Dean replied. "Come on. Football's fun and I'd bet you'd be good at it. You're tall and fast."

"I don't know. I - I'm not sure I'm all that keen on football."

"Just try it. Just this once."

Hermione groaned inwardly as Harry shrugged then nodded.

Harry and Dean turned to leave but Hermione tugged gently on Dean's sleeve.

"Are you..." she began tentatively. "Are you feeling - _better_, now?"

Dean shrugged, then smiled. "Yeah, no worries, Hermione."

Hermione didn't feel completely convinced by Dean's response, though she had to admit he looked far healthier than he had on that awful day when Snape had given him the caning. In fact, kicking the football absently up and down on his knee, he seemed almost more relaxed than Hermione had ever seen him.

"Shall we go and watch then?" asked Lavender, seeming eager to break the silence.

Hermione was about to tell Lavender that she didn't fancy being a football fangirl when something happened that wiped all thought of an acerbic remark away from her mind.

Lavender reached up to Dean and the two exchanged a short but meaningful kiss on the lips. They then grinned somewhat sheepishly at Harry and Hermione.

"Coming then?" said Dean to Harry.

"Yeah."

Hermione exchanged a very brief glance with Harry that told her he was just as surprised as she at the development Dean and Lavender's friendship had taken.

Dean and Harry walked ahead of them, Dean enthusiastically explaining the less obvious aspects of the rules. Lavender walked closely behind them but Hermione hung back a little, still a bit non-plussed by the kiss she had witnessed. Hermione hadn't expected that any of them could possibly have become romantically involved in a prison. It seemed impossible that there could be real love in a place that to Hermione seemed always so full of hate.

They had almost reached the football pitch. Several of the other boys came over as they saw Dean approach. He put the football on the ground and kicked it over to Harry. Harry, however, paused with the ball at his feet and looked back at Hermione.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. Didn't you - I mean - "

There was a very odd look on Harry's face that Hermione couldn't remember having seen before.

"What?"

"Didn't you want to talk about - well - I mean, I think I interrupted you."

"Oh, that. It's nothing," said Hermione quickly. "I - I - we can talk about it after - well, we can talk later. Just go - just go and enjoy your - enjoy your game," she finished, wondering why it suddenly seemed so difficult to complete a basic sentence.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Hermione replied very quickly. "I'll talk to you right after or just - or just after."

"Give us the ball then," said Dean and Harry kicked it back to him. They moved further out into the field and began making longer passes to each other, several of the other boys joining in. After a few minutes, a scrimmage started up. Hermione looked across to see that Lavender was watching the game with a slight flush on her cheeks and a dreamy look in her eyes.

Harry made a sharp fake against one of the other boys and moved in to pass to Dean who put the football in the net. Dean walked over and slapped Harry on the back. Lavender jumped up and down and clapped her hands together.

"He's good, you know," she said excitedly, turning back to look at Hermione, "not to mention handsome."

"Yes, Dean has always had natural good looks," replied Hermione stiffly.

"Actually, I meant Harry." Lavender smiled shrewdly. "Don't you agree?"

"No!"

Lavender giggled furiously. Hermione felt her face go very red and tried to turn away but Lavender kept looking at her.

"You'd better keep your eyes on the game!" Hermione retorted crossly. "They'll have to go in soon and there may be some part of the male anatomy you've missed looking at!"

Lavender's smile faded. She looked back at her roommate coolly for a moment and then returned her eyes to the scrimmage.

Hermione wished she hadn't asked Harry to talk to her after the game. She wanted to do anything but stand there like she had some sort of interest in it. Worse, it seemed like she was waiting for Harry the way Lavender was waiting for Dean, and the comparison (which had obviously not missed her gossip-starved roommate) made Hermione feel sick and uncomfortable. She truthfully had no romantic feelings for Harry and she had never thought of their friendship as anything more. But now she wondered whether the behavior of others around them might pressure them into more complicated feelings. Hermione's friends had always been girls when she was growing up but the circumstances of their imprisonment had thrust her together with Harry. Catherine was all right but there was no one she trusted more than Harry. And she knew that, now more than ever, she was dependent on their friendship and very frightened of anything that could change it.

Hermione kept revisiting her fears over and over again like a skipping CD. She was forced out of her musings only when the game ended and Harry and Dean returned with the others to the edge of the pitch.

"That was smashing, Harry!" said Dean, clapping him on the back. "Why didn't you tell us you could play like that?"

"I didn't know I could," said Harry shrugging, with a half-smile on his face.

Dean leaned in closer.

"We've got a game coming up against Thatcher wing next Saturday. Think you can join in?"

"Yeah, I - I suppose."

"We'll have plenty of chance to practice before then. I know it's a bit of a push since you're new but I really think we could use you as a striker."

"What, the forward who stands right in front of the net?"

"Yeah," said Dean, looking hopeful. "I'll have to teach you the scissor kick, though, but I think it could be done. Will you think about it?"

"Yeah," said Harry with a bit of hesitation. "Yeah, OK, I'll think about it."

"There's a chap."

Dean clapped Harry on the back and walked off arm and arm with Lavender, who took one last devilish look at Hermione as Harry stayed behind.

"Sorry, Hermione," said Harry, a bit out of breath. "I - I - what was it - "

Hermione swore under her breath as the buzzer rang loudly across the playground. Harry continued to stand in place, looking at her expectantly, however, and Hermione felt determined to say enough to forestall any misunderstanding on his part.

"H - Harry, look, we obviously don't have time to talk about this now but something very odd's happened," Hermione said very quickly. "I - I got something at Christmas, a - a book, a diary. I don't know who sent it me. It's just - I can't really explain now - it's just very strange. Can you talk this time tomorrow?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other for a moment without saying anything. Then Harry smiled.

"Of course. Anytime, Hermione."

Hermione paused for a moment, then she smiled, too.

"Off! Back to the school, you two! Didn't you hear the buzzer ring?"

Sister Lewis had swept in and the smiles on the faces of the two friends quickly faded. They both mumbled "Yes, Sister"s and started to walk back to the building but Sister Lewis put a restraining hand on Harry's shoulder.

"What?" he asked.

Sister Lewis stared back at him defiantly for a moment longer, then pointed a pudgy finger at the football pitch. Harry looked back to see the football lying on the ground where he had been kicking it.

"_That_goes back in the equipment shed. We do not go leaving things lying around where they can be trod on or stolen at this school, do we, Mr. Potter?"

"No, Sister," Harry replied neutrally.

"You will return the football." Sister Lewis stared at Harry a moment longer as though hoping he would defy her. Harry stared back at her as though to show he was fully up to any contest of wills she would have him enter. He then roughly shook her grip away and went over to pick up the football. Hermione went to follow him but Sister Lewis restrained her as well.

"Not this time, Miss Granger," she said with a very false smile. "I think Mr. Potter can return the football quite easily without your help. You will return to the building for your afternoon lesson as quickly as possible. _And don't think that either of you will be excused!" _she finished.

Hermione exchanged a brief look of commiseration with Harry and then ran off to the school building.

* * *

Harry was afraid Sister Lewis would try to walk with him back to the shed but she seemed content to let him find his own way. Harry slowed his pace after she left. At this rate, he wouldn't make it to class on time and was bound to be punished in any case. He decided to himself that he might as well enjoy a few more minutes of freedom.

He never dreamed that he'd be that good at football, Harry thought to himself, throwing the ball once up in the air and catching it. It might even turn out to be not such a bad game after all. Things had been a little strange back there with Hermione, however. He was glad she'd explained to him what she'd wanted to talk to him about however odd it had sounded. For a moment, it had seemed like she'd had something else to say to him. What with Lavender and Dean... Harry stopped himself from thinking about it. Hermione just wanted to be his friend. Harry was very glad because he very much needed Hermione's friendship and he needed it exactly the way it was.

Harry bounced the football on the ground once or twice before he reached the shed, feeling a little light-hearted. His hand reached toward the door but before he could open it, the sound of a voice behind him made him freeze.

"You play well. You're a natural, you know."

Harry swung back. It was the guard, the guard Hermione had thought had been tailing her.

"Thanks," Harry muttered.

Harry quickly turned his attention back to the shed door which he opened. Feeling somewhat unnerved, he hastily threw the football into the back of the shed and walked back out, hoping the guard would decide to wander off somewhere else.

But there he was, standing right in front of the door and staring right at Harry as he opened it.

Harry looked around quickly. There was no one else out on the playground but them. There were probably cameras but Harry wasn't sure that would help him very much. Perhaps the guard had been sent to rough him up, to get at Hermione somehow? The guard continued to stare at him, almost as though he was waiting for Harry to say something. Harry decided to try to make his way back to class as quickly as possible. If necessary, he could make a run for it. He was fast and he didn't think the guard would follow him too far.

"Excuse me," Harry mumbled.

He broke to his left but the guard moved quickly to cut him off. Harry tried to run away but the guard took a firm grip on his shoulders.

"What do you want?" Harry demanded, tensing himself in case the guard decided to strike him. "Let me go!"

"I have to warn you, Harry."

"Warn me? About what? I don't even know you!"

"You can't let Hermione bring that diary out into the playground. It will be seen. There are safer ways for her to show it you."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm late for class. Excuse me."

Harry faked quickly to his left and then walked past the guard's right shoulder. To Harry's relief, the guard did not follow but Harry had not walked very far when he heard him say:

"I think you've dropped something."

Harry knew full well he had dropped nothing. He knew he had to keep walking, run if necessary, but something made him stop and turn back around. The guard had a small piece of notebook paper in his hand which he held out to Harry. Harry hesitated but then took it from him, muttered a "thank you," and stuffed the paper quickly into his pocket. He then turned and trotted back to the school, still steeling himself in case the guard tried to follow. But he didn't. Harry had almost reached the school door when he turned back to see what the guard was doing.

But he had vanished.

* * *

"'_THERE'S A SMALL STORAGE ROOM JUST BEHIND THE PANTRY. THERE ARE NO CAMERAS THERE. MEET ME THERE NEXT FRIDAY AFTER TEA. BRING HERMIONE. TELL NO ONE.'"_

Hermione looked around for the umpteenth time to make sure no one was watching them and then handed the note back to Harry.

"It's obviously a trap," she decided, clenching her fists in frustration. "Oh, what are we going to do? I feel so helpless! I knew it wouldn't be enough for them just to get at Dean. They're going to try and entrap us and then they're going to do something really awful!"

Harry shook his head. "I don't understand, though, Hermione. They caught you trying to escape. If they wanted some sort of evidence of something against you, surely they only need that?"

"I don't know, maybe their camera tape broke or something. Or maybe this is all just part of their punishment for me. Perhaps this is all just some sort of psychological torture." Hermione wrung her hands through her hair and her eyes began to water. "And they want to drag you into it, too, Harry. They want to punish you for being my friend."

Harry put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "The psychological torture is only going to work if you let it, Hermione."

"Oh, Harry, how can you always be so calm?"

Harry's eyes widened. "I'm not always calm."

Hermione forced a smile. "That's true. Well," she said, swallowing away her tears. "I suppose this chap was right about one thing: it was probably a daft idea for me to bring this diary out to show you. If anyone took it off me, we'd be far worse off."

"Why, Hermione? What does it say?"

"Well, it's... oh, Harry, the whole thing's absolutely daft! Here, I - well, look I did bring a page. I didn't know how else to explain it to you."

Hermione reached into her back trouser pocket and produced a folded sheet of paper. Both she and Harry looked around again to make sure no one was watching or approaching them. Hermione shifted over as Harry leaned further back against the tree up against which they were sitting to make sure the cameras couldn't catch what he was reading. He looked down at the page, then up at Hermione again.

"Go on, read it," she said. "Read it aloud so I might think I'm not going mad."

Harry cleared his throat. "3rd of November, 1996," he read, looking up again.

Hermione nodded encouragingly.

"'_I made the stones move again tonight. I did it just after lunch on the playground when no one was looking. I know I mustn't keep doing it. I've already proved I can. But it's very exciting. It's tremendous to know that I have this power, this gift. I feel so alive now. I feel so good about myself every morning when I wake up. I can imagine the others must feel it, too. I don't know where this is all going to take us but - '" _Harry stopped reading. "It stops. There isn't any more."

Hermione nodded. "That was the biggest piece I dared tear out."

"But Hermione, I don't understand what it means. Who wrote this?"

"If seeing is believing, then _I_ did."

Harry frowned. "I don't understand."

"It's in my handwriting. The whole diary is. And it has my name on it. And it - it has things in it that - that - only _I_ would know! But at the same time it's just - it's just _not _possible. I _never_wrote in any diary. I know I didn't! And - and everything it says is just _madness_! It's all mixed up. Take that date for instance."

"November 3rd?"

"Yes, do you remember what happened on November 3rd?"

"Well... no. Do you?"

"Yes. That was the day they took us to that wretched amusement park, just to make it seem like we were students in a real school and not juvenile offenders."

"How do you remember things like that?"

"I just do. But I trust you don't forget the trip itself?"

Harry smiled. "How could I? They still had to follow us everywhere to make sure we didn't escape. They even had to handcuff us to the Rolly-Polly."

"And then it rained. Oh, let's not go on. It makes me ill just thinking about it."

Harry frowned. "So this diary of yours says we were somewhere else?"

"Yes! Look, it says 'after lunch.' We were the whole day in that awful place. How could I have been at the school 'after lunch?' And that's not the worst of it: the things it talks about. It's all full of rubbish about magic spells and moving rocks with wands. And it says we weren't caught trying to escape after all. We were part of some sort of magic group. They'd caught some of us but not others and they were trying to get me to give them all the names of the people they didn't know about. But I wouldn't. And then they kept threatening me and then - and then - "

"Go on."

"And then that's how Dean got caned," Hermione finished quietly. "Oh, Harry, it's all like a funny fairytale. It's like everything that really happened but twisted around somehow."

"Doesn't sound like a very nice fairytale."

"Maybe not but..." Hermione's voice trailed off and she started looking down at her fingernails. "But there were times in that diary when I was very happy, happier than I've been for a long time. Before we got caught, that was. I think I'd almost like it to be true."

"Was I a part of your group?"

Hermione paused and then looked back up at Harry.

"That's the other odd thing. _You're _not in the diary at all, Harry. It's like you weren't really here."

There was a long pause.

"Maybe I did really write this diary, Harry. Maybe I just don't remember writing it. Maybe they drugged me and made me write it."

A sudden flash appeared in Hermione's mind. She remembered for the briefest of instants her nightmare of being tied down by Umbridge and Snape and injected with something but then it was gone again as soon as Harry began to speak.

"I think that sounds a bit like nonsense to me," he said. "How could they have come up with all those things? And _why_, Hermione? Even if they did want to put you under some kind of psychological torture as you say, surely there are easier ways of doing it?"

"I don't know, Harry. I don't know what to think. Nothing else makes sense."

"And you don't know who sent it you?"

"No, there was just this note... I've got that here, too."

Harry took the note away from Hermione and read it.

"'I am returning what would have been taken from you; open your imagination and you will discover the truth.'"

"Whatever that's supposed to mean."

Harry frowned and put the note together with the other one he had showed Hermione earlier. He looked down at them thoughtfully.

"Do you think these were written by the same person?"

He handed the notes to Hermione who scrutinized them herself. Both had been written with similar looping and slightly awkward strokes, as though the author was trying to use a ballpoint pen like a paintbrush.

"I suppose they could have been," she said. "But then - but Harry, you don't think that guard wrote this, do you?"

Harry and Hermione both instinctively looked around but the guard that had dogged Hermione's movements for most of the past month seemed to be gone today.

"I don't know," Harry replied. "He must have something to do with this, mustn't he? I mean, he was the one who gave me that note."

"Fantastic. I'm being pursued by some kind of crackpot."

"Who writes diaries in _your_ handwriting?"

"All right, then, perhaps they're just using him to do their work for him. Perhaps I really should just take this to Sister Barnes or Snape. Then we really would know for sure."

"Not likely. No, Hermione, I don't think you should."

Hermione nodded but still looked uneasy.

"There is one way we could find out for sure," said Harry, after another moment's pause. "We could go along to the pantry after tea on Friday."

"Oh, no, Harry, we mustn't! It would be very foolish! Who knows what he's after and then if we got caught - no, we mustn't."

Harry nodded. "You're right, I suppose," he said, but looked a little disappointed.

"We'd be walking straight into a trap!"

"Yes, it would be exactly what he wants us to do."

There was another long pause. Both Harry and Hermione began playing with bits of dead grass and leaves on the ground in front of them. A few moments later, the buzzer went and they began to move with the rest of the students back to the building.

But not before they exchanged a final and very significant look.

* * *

As Ginny followed Luna toward the Ravenclaw common room Wednesday afternoon after Potions, it was definitely against her better judgment. She wasn't sure what made her feel more depressed: having no better plan to stop Voldemort than browsing through back issues of _The Quibbler _or having no better way to fool herself into thinking she had a plan than browsing through back issues of _The Quibbler._Several times on their trip to the Ravenclaw common room, Ginny considered making her excuses and turning back, particularly when Luna got lost twice on the way and had to be reminded by Ginny where her own house was located. Ginny finally told herself she was not going along because she was out of luck and options but because Luna was her friend and she didn't want to disappoint her.

When they finally reached the floor-to-ceiling stack of bookcases that marked the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, Ginny thought once again of going back. She had not been here since her fourth year when she had dated Michael Corner and the memory was not a very pleasant one. Ginny pondered for a moment whether Michael still existed in this reality and was pleased when she recalled that both his parents had been Muggles. At least Voldemort had gotten one thing right.

Luna had no difficulty remembering what seemed to be a long series of complicated taps on the covers of the books which rearranged themselves to reveal the entrance to the common room. She walked confidently ahead and Ginny had to trot to keep up pace. But for the large banner of an eagle whose eye followed Ginny suspiciously as she moved, the common room looked very much like Gryffindor's.

Ginny felt grateful that there didn't seem to be anyone else she knew here. A few younger students sat hunched over books on their chairs but whatever it was they were reading was far more interesting to them than Ginny or Luna. Very much like the Gryffindor common room, it was also now mostly empty.

Luna quickly led the way up to her room. Ginny followed behind her, a little more warily. She hoped none of Luna's roommates would be there. To her relief, the room was empty. In fact, there was only one bed and dresser besides Luna's own, although to Ginny's eyes there was obviously space for more. No doubt Luna's other roommates had been Muggle-borns. The owner of the one remaining bed and dresser kept them meticulously neat. Luna's side, however, looked like it had been attacked by a pack of malicious doxies. Papers and books lay strewn all over the desk, bed, and floor, ending in a messy pile near the center of the room.

"Sorry it's such a mess," said Luna quickly. "Let's see..."

Ginny moved quickly aside as Luna cleared a number of papers and books from underneath her desk. Ginny glimpsed a photo of Luna and Neville arm in arm, both wearing strange safari outfits complete with Panama hats; Neville kept adjusting his. Ginny made a quick move to her right as a half-eaten ham sandwich went flying out along with Luna's other possessions.

"Right, OK," said Luna, from underneath the desk. With what appeared to be some effort, she lifted out her trunk. It was much bigger than the one Ginny took with her each year. She was surprised Luna could move it at all.

"Now, let's see if I can just remember the correct combination," she said, half to herself. She took out her wand from its customary position behind her ear and tapped it several times on the lock, drawing back to look at it curiously when nothing moved. Ginny sighed inwardly as Luna applied what appeared the same set of taps to the lock several more times. She had to work hard to conceal her surprise when the lock finally sprung loose and Luna opened the trunk. Luna then stepped into the trunk and disappeared completely inside.

Ginny had scarcely gasped when Luna's head appeared again.

"Well, come on!" she said. "We haven't got all day, have we? It'll be time for dinner soon!"

And then she was gone again.

Ginny cautiously stepped forward and suppressed a gasp as she looked into the inside of the trunk. Luna was descending a long ladder down into darkness. She was easily already eight or nine feet down even though the outside of the trunk couldn't have been more than a foot deep. It had obviously been magically enlarged, although Ginny had never seen an enlargement on this scale before. She cautiously stepped into the trunk herself and began to descend after Luna.

After the first few steps, Ginny felt a distinct sense of vertigo. How far did this ladder go down? She was relieved when she finally heard Luna's feet make contact on a wooden floor beneath them. Ginny continued down as she heard Luna shuffling around on the floor. A moment later, a series of torches came on to illuminate Ginny's footsteps. She descended the remaining part of the ladder more easily and finally came to stop on the floor herself.

"_Retractum_."

Luna flicked her wand at the ladder and it folded itself up to the ceiling.

"Couldn't have my roommate finding it," she said. "She appears to be from Earth but one can't be sure. The rubbish disguises it, you see."

Ginny cleared her throat. "Right."

She looked around properly to find they were in an old high-ceilinged room. The whole place smelt of ancient dank wood. A few lanterns shone on all sides of the room but other than that it was covered from wall to ceiling with books. A large untidy desk sat at one end with a worn but comfortable looking rocking chair pulled up next to it.

"I spend most of my time in here," said Luna sighing. "It's good when you're trying to avoid people. Now, these books," she said, pointing her hand at the bookcases on all four corners of the room, "contain all the sort of things you'd never find anywhere else. A very powerful charm was put on this trunk by my great-grandfather. He was the founder of _The Quibbler. _When I was accepted at Hogwarts, my father made a better one and gave this to me. Whenever the Ministry tries to ban, censor, or restrict any sort of book, a copy of it will magically appear here. Much better than the Restricted Section, don't you think?"

Ginny managed to nod, still looking around in awe at the stacks and stacks of books.

"What happens when the stacks are full?" she asked, seeing they were nearly just that.

"The floor drops another level. It's very unnerving to be sitting here trying to study when it happens, I can tell you. Well, there's quite a large section on aliens over there." Luna pointed up to the fourth row of books on the right side of the room. "I'll try that first. I know what I'm looking for. Why don't you tackle that bit just behind you on Atomic Potions? You never know. Mind Shakespeare, though. He likes to crawl around over there. Some of the more successful books give off radiation and they keep him warm."

Before Ginny could reply, Luna levitated herself and glided over toward the stacks on the far walls, picking out one or two books. She quickly became engrossed in one moldy looking green volume with moving comets on the front cover. Shrugging, Ginny made her way over to the section Luna had indicated, not at all sure how Atomic Potions were going to help her find Harry. She had no sooner picked out the only book that wasn't glowing when something large and green jumped out and ran onto the floor. Ginny shrieked.

"I told you to be careful of Shakespeare," said Luna reproachfully, her feet still dangling in mid-air.

Ginny stared wide eyed at the thing which was standing on the floor just in front of her baring its teeth. It was as large as a small dog but a horrible, dustbin-colored furry green with several stubby legs, and three large nose-like tentacles that grew out from just behind its pointed ears. One very large red eye marked the center of its head and watched Ginny warily.

"Wh - what is it? It isn't a Gumbleweed, is it? Or a spiny-footed Kuku bird?"

"No, it's a cat, can't you tell?"

"_A cat_?"

Luna made a whistling sound and Shakespeare stopped growling at Ginny.

"Ginny's a friend, dear," said Luna in a child-like voice. "She's come to look at some books. Why don't you run off and play on your desk?"

Shakespeare continued to look up at Ginny suspiciously but then retreated to the desk and fished out what looked like the other half of Luna's unfinished sandwich from underneath some scattered papers. Ginny grimaced as Shakespeare stuffed the sandwich into its mouth. It looked back at her with an expression that suggested the feeling was mutual.

"One of my mother's more unfortunate experiments," Luna went on, by way of explanation. "He was only a kitten when she died. But he seems to have taken a liking to me now." Her voice trailed off a little at the end of her sentence and she returned quickly to the book she had been reading.

Ginny continued to stare up at her, however, feeling a little non-plussed. Although Harry had told her that another one of her mother's "accidents" had taken her life, she had never herself heard Luna mention her, even though they'd been friends for two years now. She wondered if she should say something when Luna looked up again and said:

"You think all of my animal friends are imaginary, don't you?"

"No, I - I - I don't - I never said - "

"That's good, then," Luna replied brightly. "I think most people do, you know. Well, we'd better get on. No use in sitting here talking all day with all these books to read."

Luna returned to her comet book, apparently cheerfully, though it was difficult for Ginny to be sure. She looked at Luna for a moment longer then looked back down at her own book, hoping very much she would find something useful.

And not just for her own sake.

* * *

Harry and Hermione crept quietly toward the door of the pantry storage room.

"Remember, the minute the buzzer goes off, we have to dash back upstairs," Hermione whispered for the umpteenth time.

"Yeah," said Harry vacantly. His hand moved toward the handle of the door.

"Oh, Harry, I really don't think we should be doing this!"

"All right, then," said Harry. "Let's turn back." He smiled somewhat deviously.

Hermione let out a heavy sigh, then reached over and turned the handle herself. Harry's smile quickly faded and both of them tensed as they wondered whether the guard would be there waiting for them on the other side.

But the small room was empty apart from some boxes of dried vegetables stacked up against the wall in front of them.

Hermione let out a breath.

"Wonderful. He isn't even here! Oh, this whole thing is just a stupid hoax. Let's go - _Harry_!"

Harry had wandered into the room ahead of her and began looking up and down the walls.

"He can't be hiding if that's what you're thinking. There's barely enough room in here to sit a dozen people."

Harry moved aside some of the vegetable boxes but found only a solid brick wall.

"See."

Harry sighed and turned back around, then frowned.

"I don't understand," he said. "I felt sure he'd be here somehow."

"Well, he isn't," replied Hermione, matter-of-factly. "Now, come on. Let's get back upstairs before someone misses us."

Harry paused for a moment, then shrugged and followed Hermione toward the door. She was just about to open it when a voice cut through the air from the very spot where Harry had just been standing.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting. I had to make sure you were both alone. It's very important no one finds me here. This is probably very strange to you both but I hope you'll allow me to explain. You wouldn't know me in this disguise nor, I suppose, do either of you, in any case, now remember my original form. But I am your godfather, Harry. My name is Sirius Black."

* * *

There was an uncomfortable lull in the conversation. Ginny turned her attention to her mashed potatoes and peas and began to eat more quickly. She hadn't had much of an appetite ever since Harry had gone but she still made it a point to eat. She knew she had to keep her strength up in case some sort of opportunity did arise. Luna had spent nearly every day and every night in her trunk since they had first started looking at books together two days before. Ginny had insisted she spend some time on her own work but Luna had said she was certain she was getting somewhere in the alien section. Not having the heart to voice her doubts, Ginny had moved on from Atomic Potions to Earth-Splitting Runes, but she had found nothing that seemed remotely connected to the Death Eater's intrusion into the Gateway or the mechanics of Mass Memory Charms. Ginny had left Luna earlier that afternoon for Quidditch practice and had been concerned to find she had not yet come down for dinner. Ginny didn't want her to work too hard on what she feared was a futile project. To say of nothing of the fact that considering what had transpired at Quidditch practice, she was eager for an excuse to eat dinner at the Ravenclaw table.

"They're not going to bite you, you know?" said Ron.

"Oh - what?" Ginny looked up from her mashed potatoes.

"Your food. You eat it; it doesn't eat you. Did you know?"

"Yes," replied Ginny impatiently, and returned her attention to her food.

"Everyone else has gone, you know. We can talk if you like."

"I don't want to talk."

Ron sighed. "Ginny, I wasn't trying to make a fool of you out there, you know."

"Why didn't you tell me _I _was the captain, Ron? We've been going on like this for a month now!"

Ron's conciliatory demeanor faded. "I thought you might have remembered. You've only been captain for three terms now. But I can see I was mistaken once again."

"And why do you think I never ran the practices?"

"Well." Ron shrugged. "I thought, you know, you were being democratic or something. Everyone having a say and all that. Anything's worth a try at this point, I suppose."

"Well, it would help if we weren't missing half the team!"

"And I suppose this Henry person would have made up most of the difference."

Ginny went very red and took a steady grip on her knife and fork. "Yes," she replied, through gritted teeth. "_Your best friend__Harry _was a _very_ good Quidditch player when he was around. Much better than you, at any rate!"

Ron sighed. "Well, that's not hard to imagine, I must admit."

Ginny sighed also. "Ron, just answer me this," she said. "How was Voldemort defeated? The first time?"

Ron's face went slightly white. He looked quickly behind him and was relieved to see Umbridge engrossed in conversation with a slightly flushed-looking Professor McGonagall.

"Merlin, Ginny!" he replied in a whisper. "_Don't say his name! _Good job old Umbridge didn't hear you."

"I'm not afraid of Dolores Umbridge."

"Well, you should be! Anyway, I don't know what you're talking about - the _first_ time. You and I did him in last year. Before that, he'd been running around for - I don't know, ever since before we were born. I thought everything would get better after that but - well, with Umbridge still around, I don't think anyone even believes it was us and - what?" Ron asked as Ginny shook her head.

"Ron, if Voldemort hadn't been stopped by Harry when he was a baby, we'd all be dead by now. No one would have survived sixteen more years of that!"

"Yeah, well, it's a bloody lucky thing we aren't. Look, Gin," Ron lowered his voice and leaned across the table. "I'm only looking out for you, you know. If you'd just let a healer - "

"Oh, there you are, Ginny - and Ronald, too. I hope I'm not interrupting your secret conversation."

"Actually, Luna, we were just leaving," replied Ron. "What a pity you - "

"Oh, good," said Luna. "I've caught you just in time." She turned to Ginny. "I've made a very interesting discovery, you know."

Ginny felt her heart quicken slightly but then forced her false hope back down when she considered the odds that Luna had genuinely stumbled across something useful from her books on extra-terrestrials.

Ron looked back and forth from Luna to Ginny, shaking his head.

"Luna has been helping me," declared Ginny, feeling suddenly defensive of her friend. She glanced severely at her brother, then looked up at Luna. "Let's go up to your r - your, er, _common_ room and we can talk about it there." Ginny watched Umbridge warily out of the corner of her eye, knowing that her attention rarely strayed far from the Gryffindor table. She jerked her head in the headmistress's direction but Luna missed the signal entirely.

"Oh, there's no need to go all the way up there. What I really need is a short demonstration and Ronald will be just ideal."

"I - _what?"_

"Now, sit still, Ronald," said Luna, taking her wand out. "This spell can lead to some very nasty complications if it's not done correctly."

"What demonstration - what are you talking - "

But before Ron could finish his sentence, Luna had pointed her wand at him. She closed her eyes and mouthed a silent incantation. A bright red light sizzled noisily out of her wand and struck Ron square on the chest. He fell backwards, chair and all, onto the stone floor of the hall with a very loud crash, at which point Luna's eyes opened again.

"Splendid!" she exclaimed, turning to Ginny. "That will do very nicely indeed, don't you think?"


	12. Hunters And Prey

**Chapter 12**

**Hunters and Prey**

"Luna!" cried Ginny. "Wh - what did you do?"

"Oh, the effect will only be temporary," replied Luna breezily. "I found it in - "

This time Luna did not miss the sharp cutting motion of Ginny's finger over her lips. She looked slightly confused until another voice entered the conversation.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw," said Umbridge sweetly, as though passing the time of day. "Is this another one of your experiments, Miss Lovegood?"

"Oh, yes," said Luna. "You see - "

"Luna was trying out a new - a new, er, fainting charm," Ginny said very quickly.

"Indeed, Miss Weasley," said Umbridge, smiling brightly. "Then she seems to have succeeded. But may I ask for what purpose?"

"Er - "

"You see, Professor," Luna broke in. "Hogwarts has been taken over by aliens. They look just like us but they're really not. This fainting curse has rendered Ronald here temporarily immune to their influence. It's a drastic measure but we're running out of other options."

Ginny drew in a deep breath as Umbridge raised her eyebrows.

"I see. And does this anti-possession charm have a counter-curse?"

"Oh, yes, I was just about to administer it but first I have to run a few tests." Luna held out her wand again. "It will only take - "

"Perhaps we'd better take him up to the hospital wing right away," Ginny broke in. "I think the experiment may have gone wrong, Luna."

"Wrong? No, it's going perfectly. All I need to do - "

It was Umbridge who broke in this time.

"I think Miss Weasley might be right. I thought I told you before about practicing your experiments, Miss Lovegood?"

Luna's face suddenly clouded over.

"Yes, Professor," she said, lowering her head.

"And I'm sure you wouldn't want another round of detentions, would you? I can't help but notice your scar has faded, dear."

Luna quickly withdrew her right wrist.

"Are you sure you don't need another reminder?"

"Quite sure," Luna replied darkly.

"That's good. Now, you and Miss Weasley will go immediately with Mr. Weasley to the hospital wing to get this curse of yours undone. And I expect to hear a very positive report from Madam Pomfrey or I might be forced to re-consider my leniency."

Luna nodded, her head still lowered. She cast a levitation charm on Ron who remained unconscious.

Umbridge next turned to Ginny who looked back at her as defiantly as she dared. She felt her cheeks burning brightly. Umbridge returned her gaze only very briefly but it was enough to confirm what Ginny had feared: she had not dismissed the incident as lightly as she had appeared to.

"Let's go, Luna," said Ginny quickly, turning her head away from Umbridge.

Ginny helped Luna guide the unconscious Ron away from the Great Hall, ignoring the guffaws coming from the Slytherin table and the strange looks they were getting from the other students. Once they had reached the stairs, however, the crowds thinned out until finally they were alone.

Ginny pointed her wand at Ron.

"_Accelio._"

Ron's oddly floating body took on a sudden burst of speed. Ginny and Luna had to trot to keep up with him and maintain their wand link.

"Hey!" said Luna. "What did you do that for? It won't do him any good if he bumps into the wall! And where are you going? The hospital wing's - "

Ginny swung around to look back at Luna, trying hard to conceal her murderous feelings.

"We're not going to the hospital wing!" she hissed.

"Why are you whispering? Umbridge isn't following us, you know. It's not her way. She'll be talking by floo with Madam - "

"_Sssh!_Umbridge isn't the only one who could be watching us!" Ginny replied in a whisper, her eyes darting around the floors and the corners.

"Who else -_oh._" Luna's face cleared. "I see, Umbridge is in league with the aliens! I should have suspected it, really. But I don't think they'll be crawling around on the floor. And I still don't see where we're going."

Ginny stopped and swung around to face Luna, then quickly ran back up the stairs as Ron's unconscious body continued to speed ahead of them.

"We're going to your room, Luna. And we've got to get there and back to the hospital wing before Umbridge or anyone else finds we've gone missing!"

"Oh, I thought this route seemed familiar. But why are we going there?"

"Did you have something to demonstrate to me or not? And do you really have a way to revive my brother?"

Luna's eyes brightened. "Oh, yes. And you'll be so surprised when you find out."

"I can't wait."

* * *

Hermione screamed.

"Hermione," began the guard. "Please don't - "

Hermione screamed again.

"Hermione!" hissed Harry. "_Don't_! They'll be down on us in an instant!"

"They won't actually," muttered the guard. "I've put a silencing charm on the door, but we still haven't got much - "

"Harry!" cried Hermione. "He just - how did he just - there was _no one there!_"

"I - I don't know, Hermione," said Harry, putting a cautious hand on her shoulder. "But I think we should at least - "

But Hermione had broken away from his grip and reached for the handle of the door. She pulled on it frantically but it wouldn't open.

"And a locking charm," added the guard. "But, Hermione, please don't panic."

"Don't panic! _Don't panic?_"

Hermione gritted her teeth and walked in front of Harry, her fists half-raised.

"I can fight you, you know! I've learned to defend myself at this school. A - and - and against boys nearly as big as you!"

But Harry stepped in front of Hermione and dragged her back behind him protectively.

"Who are you?" he demanded to the guard. "What do you want?"

"I told you, Harry. My name is Sirius Black. I am your godfather."

"I don't have a godfather!"

The guard sighed. "Harry, I know this is going to difficult for you to believe but you've got to trust me. I - "

"_No_! Why should I trust you? You've locked us in here against our will! You've - "

Harry stopped talking as the guard reached into the back pocket of his trousers and produced a long wooden stick. He felt Hermione tense behind him but both of them seemed incapable of moving. They did nothing but watch as the guard aimed the stick at a point just to Harry's left, flicked it in the air and said:

"_Alohomora."_

There was a sharp clicking sound and the door opened slowly.

Harry slowly eased back, his eyes not leaving the guard. A grunt of protest from Hermione told him they had reached the wall.

The guard displayed a toothy grin which did little to endear him to either of them. But there was a strange twinkle in his eye that almost made him seem like the rogue uncle neither of them had.

"Go on then, Harry," he said. "Why don't you leave? I'm not stopping you. You wouldn't want to keep Sister Barnes waiting, now would you?"

"Harry!" cried Hermione, finding her voice again. "He must be with them! Or else how could he have a remote control for that door?"

"This isn't a remote control, Hermione," said the guard carefully. "This is a wand."

"Harry, this is mad. He's trying to trick us! Harry, _let's go!_"

But Harry did not move. He continued to stare mesmerized at the guard who looked back and forth between him and Hermione.

"Am I really mad, Hermione?" he said, with an expression that suggested madness was far from an unreasonable suggestion. "Did you read the diary I gave back to you?"

"I never wrote in any diary!"

"But I'm afraid you did. You just don't remember."

"I don't - " Hermione hesitated for a brief moment. "I don't - o - of course I would remember I thing like that."

"But I'm afraid your memory has been altered."

It was Harry who spoke.

"Prove it."

"Harry -_no!" _Hermione hissed in his ear. "There's the door! We have to get out of here!"

The guard's face broke into another Cheshire-cat smile.

"What an excellent suggestion, Harry."

He flipped the stick over in his hand and handed the handle end to Hermione who slid out from behind Harry and moved over to the door.

"I'm not touching that. It's some kind of shock stick."

But before Hermione could protest, Harry himself reached out and snatched the stick from the guard, then dropped it immediately.

"_See_!" cried Hermione as the guard continued to smile. "Harry, are you - "

"I'm all right," said Harry. "It's - it's not a shock stick, I think. But it - it _vibrated_." He looked up at the guard who nodded in apparent encouragement.

There was another long moment of silence.

"Are you going to pick it up, Hermione?" asked the guard, still with a smile that was more devious than inviting. "It won't hurt you, I promise."

"I don't care about your promises."

"Very well, then."

The guard folded his arms and continued to watch the stick which sat innocently against one of the cardboard vegetable boxes where it had rolled after Harry had dropped it. Harry and Hermione both stared at the stick but neither made a move for it. Yet neither chose to make for the door either. They continued to stare at the guard who looked back at them. His stance was relaxed but Harry did not fail to notice a vein throbbing sharply in his neck. He could not help but feel that the guard was only feigning patience and perhaps that was not all he was feigning.

They could leave now, Harry thought. Leave while the door was still open. They could go back. At least they'd be safe in the school. Maybe they'd even -

The buzzer rang loudly signaling the end of kitchen clean-up. Frantic footsteps resounded against the floor above them. The students were lining up. The nuns would be inspecting them for a shirt left askew - or a stolen knife. And they weren't even there.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Harry reached out for the wand but stopped as Hermione made a move for it herself at the same time. Before he knew what was happening, the wand was in her hand. She looked back up at the guard with a very odd look her face. Defiance? Determination? No, there was something else there, something underneath, struggling to emerge even as Hermione fought to repress it. It was a look Harry had never remembered seeing before yet it now seemed perfectly natural. A moment later, he realized it was hope.

Still no one spoke. Harry's heart pounded as he heard the raucous shrill of Sister Barnes' muffled but unmistakable voice. A minute later she would notice they weren't there. Then she would start searching and it wouldn't be long before they were found.

The guard reached into the pocket of his jacket. Did he have another stick there? Or some other kind of weapon? Harry's eyes widened. He moved toward Hermione. The guard's hand came out in a closed fist. Harry held his hands out to shove Hermione away from danger when the fist opened and several small pebbles fell to the ground.

Harry stopped just as Hermione gasped and then reached out her hand to arrest his forward movement.

"Hermione, what - "

"Don't touch me, Harry. It's all right. Just move away."

"But, what - "

"_Do as I say_!"

Hermione's face held none of the incredulity and resistance that had framed her features less than a minute before. Instead, she stared mesmerized at the pebbles on the floor as though she had never seen anything like them before.

The sound of Sister Barnes' voice grew louder. It was followed closely by determined footsteps. Footsteps coming fast in their direction.

"Hermione," said Harry. "We - "

But he broke off again as a tears started to form in Hermione's eyes and roll down her cheeks. He looked over at the guard and was startled to find that if appearances could be believed, then his eyes were watering, too. The footsteps were coming closer now. He knew that both Hermione and the guard must have heard but they continued to stand there as though they had all the time in the world. Harry knew they had to leave fast but it seemed that he, too, could only watch as tears rolled down Hermione's cheeks in time with his fast-beating heart.

"You know what to do, Hermione," said the guard finally, his voice now laden with emotion. "I know you've read that diary. I know you've read it many times. I didn't see but I know you did; I know you, Hermione. I know your curiosity; I know your dreams. And I know you know the spell."

Hermione did not respond. Her gaze returned to the pebbles. The wand flicked in her hand. Harry's jaw dropped as the pebbles started to dance in a circle along the floor, slowly at first, then faster and faster, then so fast that Harry could not tell one from the other.

The guard laughed. "Yes, Hermione! _Yes_! See what you can do with a real wand?"

The pebbles continued to buzz as Harry heard the door to the pantry open. The footsteps stopped for a brief moment but then marched on until they pounded to the foot of their own door.

"_Accio_," said the guard suddenly.

Hermione let out a small gasp as the stick flew out of her hand and back into the guard's.

"They've found you," he said quickly. "We'll have to find a new place next week. Don't look for me. I'll find you."

The door opened. Harry and Hermione swung around to find Sister Barnes staring at them.

"What in the name of our holy Saint Brutus is going on in here?"

"We - " Hermione began desperately, swinging her head back around to the guard.

But no one was there.

* * *

"Don't your housemates notice anything?" said Ginny panting, as they levitated Ron awkwardly down the wooden staircase to the bottom of Luna's "trunk."

"Well, I expect they're used to it by now."

"Used to it?"

"Yes, didn't you hear Umbridge? I think Ronald will be my seventh experiment of the year. Most of them are my own housemates. Of course, I've used Neville once or twice. I developed a test to check for aliens, you see. Well, it's no good just trying it out on one and not the others, is it? I mean, there might be variations. I suppose I must remember to stop doing it in the Great Hall, though. I really don't want to go to another detention."

Ginny was very glad Luna couldn't see the expression on her face as they continued to descend into the room.

Luna charmed on the lights and they managed to get Ron into her desk chair.

"Now," said Luna, taking out her wand from behind her ear again. "I _think_ this will work."

"You _think_?"

"Well, I can't be sure, of course. It _is_ the first time I've tried it. Mind you, I did try something a bit similar my third - "

"Luna, we have to hurry! Umbridge will be on to Madam Pomfrey and she'll know we're up to something!"

"Oh, yes, I suppose so. Now, please be quiet, Ginny. I have to concentrate."

Luna missed the expression of incredulity on Ginny's face as she closed her eyes and aimed her wand out at Ron. She mumbled for a good minute and a half as Ginny watched intently only to open her eyes again and declare "no, that's not right. I'll have to start again" as Ginny fumed silently beside her. After yet another unsuccessful attempt, Luna picked up a large black book from her desk with an emaciated white skull on the front cover which Ginny was heartened to notice did not look like an alien. She opened the book and fumbled through it, letting out a small cry of triumph as she found the correct page. She then kept one eye open at the words and the other eye closed. After finishing a page-long incantation, a red flash of light once again emitted from her wand and struck Ron just below his left shoulder. His eyes opened immediately.

"There you are!" said Luna brightly. "It worked! I knew that if I - "

"Ron, are you all right?" asked Ginny urgently, ignoring Luna.

Ron stared wide-eyed up at the ceiling for a moment. Ginny anxiously shook his shoulder. He didn't move for a moment but when Ginny shook him a second time, his eyes slowly turned to hers.

"Wh - where am I?" Ron demanded. "Wh - what happened?"

"Luna knocked you out. Can you sit up?"

Ron looked at his sister properly and recoiled.

"Who the devil are you?" he demanded. "What's going on? What is this place?"

Ginny swung her head abruptly back to Luna.

"Luna, what did you - "

Ginny's voice trailed off as she saw that Luna was now standing with her wand still in her right hand but a small glass ball in her left. It fit just into the palm of her hand. A soft red light emitted from its center. It looked oddly familiar to Ginny, though she couldn't immediately place it.

"What's that?" asked Ginny.

Luna looked up at her, the red light casting odd shadows over her face. There was an unusually serious look on her face as she said:

"Ronald's memories."

"_What?"_ Ginny exclaimed.

Luna ignored her. Still looking very methodical, she looked up from her ball at Ronald.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"What do you mean 'what is my name?' I'm the one who should be asking questions! Where am I? Who are you people?"

"Ron, we're - " Ginny began but Luna held up a hand to cut her off.

"We're not answering any questions until you do," said Luna, as though the whole thing was Ron's fault. "This can be either slow or it can be fast. It's all up to you."

"It had better be fast, Luna!" Ginny interjected again. "We're - "

Luna didn't need to silence Ginny this time; she managed to stop herself but still sighed in exasperation.

"My name's Artie," said Ron. "Artie Finch. Now who are you?"

Ginny took a step back, her eyes wide as she saw that Ron did not seem to be joking. A small, slightly devious smile played itself across Luna's lips but it faded quickly as she went on in a business-like tone:

"Thank you, Artie, and what do you do?"

"What do I _do_?"

"Yes, how do you make your living?"

Ron paused for a moment, looking very puzzled. The look on his face reminded him of the way Harry had hesitated when Sirius had asked him how he had rescued him his third year if not for Hermione. Luna seemed about to ask again when he said:

"I - I - I'm a salesman." His face cleared as he seemed to decide he had settled on the right answer. "I run a kiosk. I sell newspapers, sweets, that sort of thing a - at Kings' Cross Station in London. But_we're_ not in London! Where are we? I've answered your questions, so now I want mine answered! And why does she keep calling me Ron?" He pointed an accusatory finger at Ginny.

"Thank you," was Luna's only reply. Before either Ron or Ginny could interject again, she aimed her wand at Ron again, closed her eyes, and muttered a short spell. The red light from the glass ball which she still held in her other hand dimmed. Now that she concentrated, Ginny thought she could see a very thin red line emitting from the ball and moving in Ron's direction but it was almost imperceptible and she was sure she would not have noticed anything had she not been looking straight at the ball. Ron looked curiously at Luna for a moment, but then his eyes went wide again and his head fell back against the head of the chair. His unconscious lanky frame sank further down in the chair and Ginny had to rush over to hold the chair's arms and prevent him from sliding off.

"He'll remember everything when he wakes," said Luna before Ginny could ask anything.

"Everything?"

"Well." Luna smiled. "Everything except what happened to him after he first went unconscious. That we'll keep to ourselves - for the time being, at least." Luna held up the ball again. By the dim light of the small lantern on Luna's desk, Ginny could still see a faint tint of red inside.

"And this will work with anyone?" she asked.

Luna nodded, still admiring the ball.

"But how did you get that ball?"

"I conjured it. It explains it all here." Luna pointed down to the spell book which was still open on her desk. "It's a very powerful charm. No wonder the Ministry wanted to keep it a secret. You could use it on a whole lot of people, you know, and it gets more advanced. You can spread it over a wide field. Useful book, this. Tells you everything. Funny - it wasn't even in the alien section."

Ginny could scarcely conceal her excitement. She grabbed onto Luna's arm.

"Luna, do you know what this means? _You've found it! _This is how they're doing it - the memory charms!"

"Oh, I should think the aliens would have their own technology," replied Luna. "I expect all this is somewhat primitive to them."

Ginny ignored her comment. "All we have to do is find the other one of this!" She pointed to Luna's glass ball. "That's what Professor Darden must have kept in that box of his."

"Who?"

"The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher when Hagrid was a student. He was the one who invented the spell."

"Oh, but how are we going to find it then?"

Ginny's enthusiasm diminished. "I'm not sure," she confessed. "I suppose it could be anywhere really."

"Well, it would have to be somewhere in the castle," ventured Luna, "unless they've found a way to expand the range. It can't be done from very far away. And then, of course, anyone intelligent enough to learn all these spells would probably use a concealment charm."

Ginny felt her spirits sinking lower. They still had no idea how to find the real glass ball, or whatever it was that was being used in its place. And even if they did, it would only be the first step toward getting everyone's memories back and finding Harry and the Muggle-borns. But, Ginny tried to remind herself, it was a start and perhaps Luna's magical library concealed even more clues.

"Luna, no one can get in or out of this trunk, right?"

"I shouldn't think so. Not unless they could apparate and that's not possible inside Hogwarts. Did you know?"

"There aren't any _holes_ in your trunk?" Ginny asked tentatively.

"It's an old trunk but it's as tight as a drum, I assure you."

"So not even a rat could get in," mused Ginny, half to herself.

"A rat? No, I shouldn't think so. Besides, even he did manage to find his way, I'm sure Shakespeare would have him for supper."

* * *

"It could have been done magnetically, I suppose."

"What?"

Hermione hadn't spoken for so long that Harry found himself both surprised and inattentive when he finally heard her voice.

"The wand moving the stones on the floor. There must be some kind of magnetic charge in the stick."

"But - but Hermione, you - you said - well, I mean, the way you - well, it seemed like you believed him at the time."

Hermione sighed and didn't respond for a moment. Harry looked up at the statue of St. Brutus on the wall of the Room of Quiet Repose in which they were now sitting nervously. It looked slightly askance as though peering at them. There was always the horrible feeling that someone was watching you at St. Brutus's. That feeling seemed to only get worse now that, from the point of view of the nuns, they were doing something quite horrible. Harry looked at the door that led out to the corridor and down to Snape's office. He wondered what Snape would think if he knew what they had been doing. Perhaps, Harry reflected nervously, he already did.

"Oh, Harry, don't you understand?" replied Hermione, shaking Harry away from his thoughts a second time. "I want to believe. I want _so much _to believe."

Harry looked at his best friend in concern as her eyes started to water over again but Hermione forced the tears back this time.

"That diary," she continued, the Adam's apple bobbing up and down in her throat as she swallowed hard. "In the diary, it said that we moved around pebbles with sticks all the time. I - I - he was right, Harry. I _had_ read it. Of course, I'd read it dozens of times. And I knew exactly how to do the spell - if it is a spell."

"But Hermione, I suppose it must be. I mean - you did it, didn't you, and magnets don't really work very well on pebbles, do they?"

"Maybe they weren't really pebbles. Maybe he made it to look like they were. And - and then he cooked up that diary so I'd think I moved the pebbles before and then when I moved them now, I'd have to believe him."

"But _why_, Hermione? It doesn't make sense!"

Hermione shook her head.

"I don't know, Harry. But just because we don't know, it doesn't mean there isn't some kind of reason."

Harry didn't say anything. After a moment's pause, Hermione spoke again.

"How do you suppose he knew I'd read the diary?"

"I don't know, Hermione. He said he knew you would and he was right, I suppose."

"Maybe he's following me. Maybe he's watching me all the time even when - oh, Harry, I don't like this at all! Maybe we should really tell Snape!"

"You still don't really think we should do that, Hermione, do you?"

There was another pause.

"No," said Hermione, very quietly.

"He said he knew how curious you would be."

Hermione smiled ironically. "Well, he was right about that."

"Maybe he does know you, Hermione."

"But Harry, you know that's not possible."

"I know it's not possible to make pebbles move on the floor with a wooden stick."

Hermione didn't answer right away. Then she asked carefully:

"Harry, b - but what do _you_ think of him? He said he was your _godfather._"

Harry knitted his brow and looked down at his hands. He didn't answer right away and Hermione quickly regretted the question but then he said, his face clearing slightly:

"Well, I suppose that bit must be wrong, mustn't it?"

He looked up at Hermione and though his eyes remained dry, she could see deep pain within them. The feeling was so clear it almost dazzled her. She realized that, like her, Harry wanted very desperately to believe this strange man. And he was horribly afraid of what he would feel if he chose to trust him in error.

Hermione wanted to say something encouraging but she wasn't sure what that would be. She suddenly regretted having spent so much of the conversation casting doubts.

She was spared the effort, however, when the inner door of the room opened with a sharp click. Both she and Harry swung their heads up to find themselves greeted with the malicious smile of Sister Barnes.

"I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting," she said. "I did try to explain to the headmaster that I had probably walked in on a lover's quarrel but he does insist on seeing you. I really can't think why."

* * *

Umbridge walked into the Room of Requirement to find it pitch black and apparently empty. She was about to turn around to leave, muttering disconcertedly to herself but as she did so, the outer door closed in front of her.

"Penny for your thoughts, Dolores," said a voice that Umbridge could not place before she realized that Draco Malfoy's typical lazy drawl now seemed to have changed into a hiss-like whisper. Umbridge shuddered. It was just like talking to a snake. So this was how Voldemort had sounded.

"I have a report for you," she replied, with a slight quiver and then added, not without some obvious effort, "my Lord."

There was a shuffling of robes as Umbridge sensed Malfoy sit up straighter in his unseen chair.

"Very good, Dolores," he said. "I see you've remembered that fear and pain are the greatest of teachers."

"Is it necessary to conduct this conversation in darkness?" asked Umbridge apprehensively.

"Darkness suits my purpose, Dolores. Were it not so, the Room would make it otherwise. It always provides. But now, I think you have something more substantial to tell me. If not, then I have other matters that require my attention. My patience is not unlimited."

Umbridge swallowed nervously, grateful that Malfoy could not see the fearful expression on her face.

"I am concerned, my Lord. There was an incident in the Great Hall this morning. The Lovegood girl and the Weasley girl seemed to be conducting some form of experiment. Lovegood cast a spell on the Weasley boy and he fell unconscious onto the floor."

There was an uncomfortable lull in the conversation.

"That is all?" said Malfoy finally.

"Y - yes," came the nervous reply. "I took points from Ravenclaw and ordered them to take Weasley to the hospital wing."

"And did they?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"A - and he made a full recovery, though it seems he remembers nothing of the incident."

There was another pause.

"Do you normally permit your students to conduct these sorts of experiments, Dolores? Haven't you urged them to be on the lookout for traitors?"

"I do not, of course. But the Lovegood girl has made a habit of these sort of things. Twelve students went unconscious her fourth year, all with very similar symptoms to Mr. Weasley. In those days, she kept her experiments confined to her own house but now she seems to have expanded them to include the school at large. I doubt whether anyone would suspect her of being a traitor, though, a nuisance is more like it."

"And what do _you_ think, Dolores?"

"I think that a group of house elves could pen the History of Magic in ten volumes before Miss Lovegood devised an experiment that threatened our plans in any way. It is not her I'm worried about. With respect -_my Lord _- the Weasley girl - Ginny - is much more clever - as I'm sure you'll agree. She will use all of her resources to find Potter and stop you."

There was another pause in the conversation. Umbridge felt her heart start to pound very fast. There was a shuffle of robes from somewhere near where she was fairly sure Malfoy was sitting. Was he reaching for his wand? Umbridge clenched her fist and braced herself for the unbearable pain of another Cruciatus Curse. And this time she would have no warning. She regretted ever having come to report anything, almost as much as she regretted ever having joined the Dark Lord. But it was too late for that now.

And just when Umbridge had almost hoped the curse would come and end the horrible agony of waiting, Malfoy spoke.

"I take your counsel, Dolores. You will keep a close eye on Ginny but do not let her catch you watching her. And above all, do not intervene. And strengthen your propaganda: that _is_ what you do best, Dolores. Make sure _all _of the students understand that even the most seemingly harmless eccentrics can be dangerous if they are not watched and stopped. And make sure the Ravenclaws understand this -_not_ just the Slytherins. They, too, must learn to take pride in their blood."

"As you wish, my Lord."

"You may go."

The door opened and Umbridge quickly exited. It closed again, but not before Malfoy smiled as, silhouetted in the doorway, Umbridge gave him a departing bow.

"Did you hear that, Wormtail?" he asked.

There was a soft whimper from the corner of the room that Malfoy took as an acknowledgement.

"I have an important task for you."

Malfoy heard Wormtail nervously approach the desk. A soft light came on in the room. Malfoy felt momentarily annoyed before remembering once again how much it pleased him to see the fear in the eyes of his servant.

Wormtail still did not respond but rubbed his hands together nervously.

"You must keep close watch on the Lovegood girl. There is a point at which something is so stupid that it begins to become intelligent. We cannot afford to reach that point. Then considering it is _her._" Malfoy paused. "She is closer than she realizes to what she seeks. We must take no chances."

Malfoy looked at Wormtail for his response and was disconcerted to find that his servant was looking back at him with non-plussed, somewhat bulging eyes.

"Did you not hear what I said, Wormtail?" said Malfoy edgily.

"Oh, oh, yes, my Lord, I heard," replied Wormtail anxiously, rubbing his hands together again. "Follow the Lovegood girl."

There was a faint look of apprehension in Wormtail's eyes but it was quickly gone. No doubt he feared the consequences should he fail. This pleased Malfoy and he blessed Wormtail with an ironic smile.

"There is one other thing you must do for me, too, Wormtail. It is very important. As you know, our plans grow nearer to completion. I still hope to turn all pure-bloods to our side before that time comes. However, that may not be possible and we cannot afford the luxury of waiting too long."

"Naturally, my Lord, when they begin to understand what you will bring them, surely they - "

"Silence, Wormtail. I had not finished. I need you to contact all remaining loyal Death Eaters who are not at work on the gateway and arrange for them to come to Hogwarts. Since we are now in control of the school, letting them in the front door should be an easy matter. They will remain in the original room. I will gather all those Slytherins I believe to be fully loyal to our cause and arrange for the older Death Eaters to train them."

"Train them f - for what, my Lord?"

Malfoy smiled again. "A contingency, Wormtail. A contingency. We must make very sure that if Lovegood somehow finds the memory device before our plans are complete, there will be no one left alive in this school to tell the tale."


	13. Red Sky At Night

**Chapter 13**

**Red Sky at Night**

"Thank you, Sister Barnes, that will be all."

Sister Barnes lingered long enough to fix Harry and Hermione with another cruel smile and then closed the door to Snape's office, leaving them alone with the headmaster.

Snape looked down at his desk for a moment. Harry sensed right away that he was trying to play on their nerves by keeping them waiting and kept his posture relaxed in defiant response. But he glanced over to notice that Hermione stood rigid to attention. He remembered that this had not been her first encounter with the headmaster. He felt a sinking sensation of guilt as he realized that after her recent attempted jailbreak, Snape would only need the slightest provocation to reassign her to a much more horrible prison.

"Sit down," muttered Snape in a low sharp tone.

Harry heard the squeak of the chair next to him as Hermione sank down into it quickly. A nervous voice in Harry's head told him that he needed to sit down now, too, that it wouldn't do to provoke Snape. Yet the idea of immediate submission prickled Harry like an annoying sore. He would not - and could not - sit.

Snape paused for a moment, looking down at his desk almost thoughtfully. A second later, he abruptly stood up and fixed Harry with an icy cold stare. Rather than feel intimidated, however, Harry found himself with a tremendous feeling of déjà vu. Even though, in reality, this was the first time he had ever been summoned to Snape's office, he couldn't help but feel that this was not the first time he had entered into a war of wills with the headmaster. And for just a flicker of a moment, Harry had the strangest sense that his impressions were shared by Snape as well. But the headmaster's momentary pensiveness disappeared as he marched behind Harry and with a trembling yet firm grip, pushed him down hard to his seat with his bony hands.

"That's better," Snape said coolly. He returned to his desk as if to sit back behind it but at the last minute made an abrupt about face and stood directly in front of Harry and Hermione.

"Explain yourselves."

"W - we - " began Hermione tentatively.

"I think Sister Barnes told you," said Harry, more decisively, sharing the briefest of furtive looks with Hermione. "We wanted to be alone. The storage shed seemed the best place. Hermione was upset. Is that a crime?"

Snape's lips thinned. He took three large strides over to where Harry was sitting and peered down at him through his nose.

"I did not ask for your insolence," he spat with a wave of horrible breath that made Harry recoil. "Does it strike you as reasonable for two juvenile offenders such as yourselves to simply wander off? Perhaps I should allow Miss Granger here to go off on another adventure." He took a large step to his left and stared down at Hermione who, to her credit, did not flinch and met his gaze.

"I thought we were supposed to be learning how to be merciful and kind at this school," said Harry, a little sharply. "Isn't that what Sister Barnes always says? Showing others a little Christian sympathy?"

Snape walked back to Harry and looked at him almost curiously before quickly reaching out his hand and slapping him hard across the face.

Harry heard Hermione stifle a gasp. His glasses were askew from the force of the blow and the right side of his head stung painfully. Snape stared at him, his hand half-raised as if to strike again but he settled for a low, hissing retort.

"You may learn Christian sympathy, Potter, after you have learned to fear the wrath of the Lord's judgment. Besides," he added, his eyes flickering back and forth shiftily between Harry and Hermione, "your slothful activities hardly fall into the category. However..."

Snape made a triangle with his fingers and seemed to adopt a slightly thoughtful demeanor again. He walked back behind his desk before turning his head quickly back to face them.

"Let us not play games, anymore, shall we? For I do not really believe you were engaged in any such kind of encounter. Sister Barnes has a somewhat limited imagination, don't you think?"

He looked back at Harry and Hermione as though daring them to agree, but neither took the bait. Snape looked at them for a moment longer and then, to their surprise, began to fiddle with the controls of the close-circuit video equipment on the table at the right of his desk. He seemed to be manipulating a picture he had prepared in advance, though neither Hermione nor Harry could see what it was until Snape swung the screen around to face them.

"Perhaps you could tell me who _this_ is."

Harry felt his mouth run dry as he saw on the screen the freeze-framed image of his would-be godfather dressed as a guard and apparently patrolling the playground. He wasn't sure what Hermione had in mind to say but he quickly spoke up.

"As far as I know he's one of the school guards. He's been here for many years, hasn't he?"

"Indeed," replied Snape, looking for a moment as though he was struggling to suppress a puzzled frown. "And what is your relationship with him?"

"Relationship?" asked Harry.

Snape looked considerably displeased with Harry's feigned ignorance but before he could respond, Hermione broke in.

"He's been following me for weeks now, sir. I - I assumed it was because of what I - what we - had done. But if you didn't send him to watch me, sir, then I can't think what he wanted with us."

"Perhaps Mr. Potter could shed some light on the matter, then? You were seen talking together last Monday afternoon before you returned late to class. And do not try my patience by denying the matter, Potter. I have the tape to prove it."

"We _were_ talking, sir," said Harry, looking back at Snape unblinkingly. "I don't deny it. He told me I was a natural at football. It was a bit odd. Perhaps you should investigate him, sir, if he - "

"Do not play games with me, Potter. I _am _investigating him, I assure you, and my investigation begins with the two of you. I'd advise you strongly to tell the truth. _Were you or were you not meeting that guard this evening in the pantry storage room following supper? _ANSWER ME!"

Snape's voice had reached an unhinged crescendo which echoed around the solid walls and high ceiling of the office. Hermione did not wait for it to die down, however, before quickly saying:

"No, sir."

"Mr. Potter?" Snape said evenly.

"No."

"Sister Barnes must have told you, sir," added Hermione quickly, as though afraid Harry would launch into an alternative and less manageable lie. "When she opened the door, it was only the two of us there. There's no other way out of that storage room, is there?"

"We didn't meet anyone, sir," added Harry in a tone which seemed to brook no contradiction. "We don't know who he is any more than you do. If you want to know what he wants with us, sir, I think you should ask him."

Harry was not sure how he expected Snape to react but he found himself surprised at the wry smile that crept its way up the headmaster's face.

"You are quite right, Mr. Potter," he replied. "In fact, I wanted very much to speak to him after his impromptu discussion with you last Monday. However, he did not report for work on Tuesday and now seems to have vanished without a trace."

Harry shrugged, hoping that they had managed to find their way out of the conversation, but Snape suddenly slammed his hands down hard on his desk.

"Nonetheless!" he barked. "It remains my belief that _he _is in league with the two of _you_ and that this is another attempt at a jailbreak! And if I find any evidence whatsoever that I am right, the two of you will find yourselves gone from this school and sent somewhere far more unpleasant! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry and Hermione in unison.

Snape moved from behind his desk again and walked in front of the two students, peering at each in turn, seeming determined to find some trace of deception in their eyes. But Harry and Hermione remained stoic. Harry felt his pulse quicken slightly as Snape's gaze lingered longer on Hermione. He tried to dismiss the ridiculous fear that her magic had somehow marked her for all to see.

"You should both have a care," Snape continued in a soft but cold voice. "You are more than overdue for a caning, Miss Granger here in particular."

Harry quickly felt his anger rise to the surface and found he could restrain it no longer.

"_You horrible snake! _You would use that thing on a girl?"

He got to his feet and seemed almost on the point of striking Snape.

"Harry, no!" cried Hermione.

Snape swung away from Hermione and returned quickly to Harry. He said nothing for the moment but Harry could from his blotching complexion that the headmaster was angrier than he had been at any point since they had first entered his office.

"This is a prison school, Mr. Potter," he finally said very slowly, with forced calm. "And as headmaster, I have the authority to use corporal punishment on any of my inmates insofar as they endanger the safety of this school and, most importantly, those outside it." He returned to stand in front of Hermione again and peered down at her but continued to address Harry. "I would remind you, however, Potter, that her fate - and yours - rests with yourself. Neither of you will come to harm so long as you do as I say. Should you see this guard again or should any previous forgotten conversation miraculously return to your memories, I expect you to tell me immediately." He swung his head sharply back to Harry. "Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Miss Granger?"

"Yes, sir."

Harry's heart sank as he heard a noticeable tremble in Hermione's voice. Nor had it seemed to escape Snape's attention as he smiled cruelly in response.

"Good," he said. "NOW GET OUT!"

Flinching in spite of himself at yet another of Snape's sudden outbursts, Harry made his way quickly to the door, followed closely by Hermione.

* * *

It was not until the door to his office closed with a final click that Snape allowed himself the luxury of exhaling. He felt a deep fatigue wash over him and sincerely hoped that Sister Barnes would not poke her infernal habit into the office to ask how the meeting had gone. He looked quickly down at his hand and found that as soon as he did so, it began trembling again as though moved by a self-fulfilling prophecy. He did not try to fight the sensation this time as it worked its way throughout his body, making him shake heavily as though plunged into an icy lake. When the sensation finally subsided, Snape quickly made for the video screen again, as though in doing so, he would be somehow able to take some measure of action over a mystery he seemed powerless to solve.

Snape placed a chalk white sweat-covered finger on the frame advance button. The guard whose likeness had been frozen on the screen advanced and the camera image panned back to reveal him standing in front of the sports equipment shed on the playground. A few seconds later, Potter emerged into the picture. Snape continued to hold the button down and the talk advanced quickly; he had already viewed it a number of times before. Finally, he reached the end. It was the same as before: Potter began to walk away from the guard, apparently returning to the school. Before he had completely walked out of the frame of the picture, however, the screen flickered and both he and the guard vanished. The next image showed an empty picture of the playground. Snape rewound and advanced the image again several times. Snape did not notice anything new but he confirmed what he had noticed the first time:

The counter on the screen had advanced with the flickering of the picture. At least two minutes had been erased from the tape. What had happened during those two minutes? Was there a fault with the equipment? No, somehow Snape didn't believe that for an instant. But who could have tampered with the tape? Snape was obsessive about keeping his office locked: not Sister Barnes, nor the cleaning nun, nor anyone else had a key. Sister Umbridge had remonstrated with him about this during her last visit but he had refused to concede his authority to her on the matter. Then how had the change been made? The problem had vexed Snape ever since he had discovered it earlier on in the week. Moreover, he felt the uncomfortable sensation that he and his authority had been violated. Snape's fear of chaos threatened to possess his body again but he resisted it. _He _was going to get to the bottom of this. He would restore order to this school.

Yet even as Snape thought this, another increasingly familiar voice in his head began to question his motives and actions. The guard had vanished before Snape could question him. And he had been following Granger whom Snape knew to have been involved in a jailbreak. Surely together with the tape, this was enough evidence to enlist the help of other authorities. If there was a jailbreak at work - or worse, an insurrection - Snape would have no shortage of difficulty trying to explain why he had not acted sooner - assuming he survived.

Yet nonetheless Snape had told no one. Not Sister Barnes - and not Sister Umbridge. And however irrational it still seemed, Snape knew that he wasn't going to tell them. Umbridge would be angry to be sure but somehow Snape had decided that he simply did not trust her. He had no real reason not to, he kept telling himself, and his suspicions about her were baseless and irrational. Moreover, Snape had never been one tempted to listen to intuition, but on this day, intuition would have its day. He would deal with the matter himself.

* * *

"I trust you have learned your lesson," said Sister Barnes, as Harry and Hermione walked back through the Room of Quiet Repose and out into the hallway.

There was no response.

"You needn't speak to me," Barnes cooed. "I know from your faces that you have experienced the wrath of a true servant of the Lord. Gave you a whipping, did he, Mr. Potter?"

"Oh, yes," said Harry. "A horrible one."

"Good." Sister Barnes looked so pleased with herself that she failed to notice Harry's thick sarcasm. "Let us hope that though your body has endured pain, your soul has moved that much closer to salvation. A small price to pay, don't you think?"

Neither Hermione nor Harry seemed able to stomach a response.

"I'm afraid, however," Sister Barnes went on in a voice that sounded anything but apologetic, "that your punishment has not quite over yet. It was hardly fair for your classmates to dutifully clean the kitchen while the two of you played truant, now was it? I am taking you back there. You will scrub the floor, using only a dishrag, until it is spotless. Fair, under the circumstances, don't you think?"

Harry groaned but Hermione surprised him by nodding and saying, with no apparent sarcasm:

"I think you've been most generous with us, really, Sister. Thank you."

"It is a reasonable punishment," replied Sister Barnes, her face glowing with self-righteous pleasure. "I hope you both realize now that cruelty can take young souls away from the Lord just as surely as leniency."

"Is that so?" said Harry with mock surprise that Sister Barnes once again missed.

They had reached the kitchen. Sister Barnes showed them to the rags and then left, saying that Sister Jones would return to supervise them as she had duties in the chapel that needed her attention. As soon as she left, Harry seemed about to say something, but Hermione subtly shook her head. Instead she said, quite loudly and clearly:

"Can you help me get these plates out of the bottom cupboard, Harry? I expect we'll have to clean in here as well. It's awfully moldy and dirty."

"Oh - right."

They both bent down.

"The cameras," whispered Hermione.

"Do you think they have sound as well then?" Harry whispered back.

"I'm not taking any chances."

Harry placed his hand on Hermione's arm.

"Hermione, look, we've got to stop this. I don't want anything to happen to you just because - "

"No, Harry!" Hermione hissed. "He's trying to get at you just the way he tried to get at me by caning Dean. You can't let it work!"

"But, Hermione, you had your doubts about this magic chap _before _we went and talked to Snape."

"Yes, and I still do. But not as much as before."

"Hermione, I don't see - "

"Oh, Harry, didn't you notice? Snape sounded very nasty all right, but really he's _terrified. _He's terrified of that guard. He's terrified of _us_. And we're going to find out why."

* * *

Ginny absently watched a wasp move among a small cluster of bluebells that had started to spring up at the foot of the beech tree. She still cast a warming charm around her cloak as she sat on the cold ground but it was difficult to deny that spring had sprung: January had rolled into February and February had tumbled into March. Now as April was nearer to them than February, Ginny was forced to confront the fact that the school year was nearing an end and they were still no closer to finding Harry, Hermione, Dumbledore, or some way out of this mess. She had no idea how far Voldemort's plans had advanced: the world could be on the brink of destruction and Ginny had no way of knowing, much less doing anything about it. Living in a school devoid of her friends under Umbridge's firm grip was a joyless experience, yet the weeks had seemed to pass quickly for Ginny. With only a little reflection, she knew why: as long as time had only _seemed _to pass slowly, that Harry hadn't _really_ been gone for that long, she could convince herself that there was still hope he could find a way back to her. But watching the innocent flight of the wasp, she was forced to be truthful to herself that a season had passed and there was still no sign of him. Moreover, seven weeks had gone by since Luna's "experiment" on Ron and they were still no nearer to finding the mysterious glass ball which they believed held the trapped memories of the remaining Hogwarts students and staff. Luna was still relentless in searching her library for clues but Ginny was sure that what they were seeking could no longer be found in a book.

The wasp and the bluebells broke into an undefined kaleidoscope of yellows and blues as Ginny allowed her tears to flow in the only place she dared. The small shoots of green springing out from the earth seemed to shake slightly as the drops of water fell on them as though in acknowledgment of the salty nourishment. Ginny knew it wouldn't do to keep her feelings inside; she had to do that too much already in her day-to-day life at the school so she let a few cathartic sobs run their course. She tried to dwell on what little happiness she still had left in her life; after all, she didn't want to be too miserable when the world suddenly ended. She tried to be closer to her friends - even her brother - who mostly took her affection as another sign of madness.

Hagrid had been the most recent to disappear. She had gone to see him just after Valentine's Day hoping to drown her sorrows, only to find that as far as everyone else was concerned, he'd never existed. Now the only people left in the empty halls of the school were Voldemort's precious pure blood wizards and the corridors were as dark and lonely as his soul was black. They'd kept the half-bloods, though, all except Harry, and Ginny had a shrewd idea why.

Still, she thought, trying desperately to re-focus her thoughts on the positive, there was always Potions, which in the absence of one hooked-nose professor who lived only in her memories, had become an interesting, even enjoyable escape. Professor Harmon's witty and self-deprecating humor was the only thing anymore that made her laugh, even though she wasn't sure what she had to laugh about. She still had Quidditch, also. Umbridge hadn't managed to take that away quite yet, presumably because it underscored how pathetic the other houses seemed against the fully stocked Slytherin side. It was now two days before Ginny's team faced that side and she was determined to take her team down fighting if nothing else.

Ginny was looking forward to the Quidditch game for another reason, too: she might have a chance to vent some of her pent-up frustrations on Malfoy. He had remained elusive, of course, though occasionally he would stare at her in the corridors with a knowing, almost taunting look that told Ginny he still remembered everything. She wondered how much he really understood of the Death Eaters' plans, whether he truly comprehended the insanity Voldemort was about to unleash. Perhaps he had become insane himself. At times, he certainly looked it. Still, with her as Chaser and Malfoy as the Slytherin Seeker, it seemed likely he would take himself - quite literally - above the fray again.

In a burst of frustration, Ginny picked up a small stone from the ground and flung it onto the grassy lawn of the castle ahead of her. If only she had some kind of hope, some sort of -

Ginny stopped herself in mid-thought. She had just heard - or thought she had heard - a sharp flutter of wings, much louder and more powerful that the flitting sounds of the small birds that had frequented the tree in recent weeks. In fact, it sounded just like -

Ginny did not complete her thought before staring sharply up into the tree. There, to her amazement and heart-pounding hope, she found her gaze sharply returned by a large, unmistakable snowy-white owl.

"Hedwig!" she exclaimed. "Hedwig, what - "

If Hedwig shared Ginny's enthusiasm, she did not show it. Instead, she fixed her human companion with a furtive, anxious expression - if such a thing were possible from an owl - and let out a warning hoot. Ginny understood quickly that she was afraid of being seen and heard by others but she was nonetheless determined to get some answers while Hedwig was there, assuming she could communicate with Ginny in some manner, and Ginny was certain she could. Maybe she even knew where Harry was. Maybe she had come from -

Ginny's thoughts were interrupted again as a small rolled-up parchment dropped from Hedwig's leg and fell quietly down through the branches of the tree before landing in her open hands. She had no sooner caught it when she heard another sharp flutter of wings. Ginny looked up quickly only to find that Hedwig had gone.

"Hedwig!" she cried again. "Hedwig, wait! What if I want to - "

Ginny searched the skies and the trees in the forest behind her but there was no sign of the owl at all. Obviously, the owner of the letter did not want her to respond.

A sharp, stinging sensation in her palms returned Ginny's attention quickly to the parchment. She gasped as she noticed it had started to smolder at the edges. Remembering clearly the timed incineration charm she had placed on a secretive letter to Hermione at a time when snagging Harry Potter was one of the only things she had needed to worry about, Ginny quickly untied the string and scanned the message before the wisps of smoke curling swiftly from the edges could consume the parchment altogether.

The message was short; the ink slightly smudged from travel, but the long narrow handwriting was unmistakable.

_I'm sorry this is taken so long. It's not easy to perform a recipient de-sensitive Disillusionment Charm on an owl._

_Reports of our demise have been exaggerated. My friend and I were helped to escape just before the memory charm was applied. We are in a safe place. I'm sorry about your other friend but our faithful companion is with him now. We are trying to get him back. We are trying to get you out as well. Say and do nothing that will put yourself in further danger._

_Have faith in your friends; they are your strength._

_A Foolish Old Man Who Neither Knows nor Understands_

_P.S. Stay close to the house elves_

Ginny's eyes had barely scanned over the last word when the letter exploded into flame. She dropped it like a hot coal. It had not even reached the ground before vanishing completely leaving not the slightest trace of ash on the virgin grass beneath Ginny's feet. Ginny stared at the ground where the message should have fallen. Like everything else that had disappeared from her life, it was now no more than a memory, yet Ginny refused to believe it was anything other than real.

Dumbledore was safe. And he had some sort of plan. Ginny felt far more hopeful than she had in weeks, so hopeful in fact that she smiled, then giggled, and even let out a mad hooping laugh over something other than a potion.

But a moment later, she frowned again. As always, Dumbledore's explanations seemed to leave her with more questions than answers. Where exactly was he? What did he mean he would "get her out" and what about the others? Did he really have a plan to stop Voldemort or was he still just as much in the dark as she was? And what on earth did he mean - "stay close to the house elves?"

Ginny let out a sigh and finding no better plan, picked up her bag, and began a slow walk back to the school.

* * *

"Good luck," said Hermione. She leaned in closer. "Please don't use any magic."

Harry smirked and the two friends shared a conspiratorial look. Then Dean moved over, tapped Harry on the shoulder, and the two players went out onto the pitch for the penultimate football game of the season.

Hermione turned and walked away, idly spinning a netball on her finger. She was stopped, however, when a familiar hand took hold of her shoulder.

"Where are you going?" asked Lavender.

"I'm going to play netball - see?" Hermione held out the ball for Lavender to examine as one might a new toy to a small child.

Lavender frowned. She leaned in closer to Hermione.

"Blokes don't like it when you don't watch their games."

"Is that so?" replied Hermione innocently. "And which bloke should I be watching?"

Lavender smiled deviously. "Oh, please stop pretending, Hermione. You've been snogging him for weeks now. And during church, too. Really, I'm surprised you haven't been caught."

Hermione's satisfaction in baiting Lavender's love of gossip quickly vanished, replaced by the gnawing tension that never seemed far from the surface of her thoughts. How did Lavender know they'd been missing during church?

The last few weeks had been fantastic, so fantastic that Hermione had stopped pondering them: doing so just twisted her thoughts into knots and made her head spin. She had seen and done things she had never thought possible. And after running out of explanations for those things, she had slowly begun to accept the version of events that had been offered by the mysterious man who called himself Sirius. Harry was, too, and though he had not said so explicitly, Hermione could see he was beginning to accept Sirius as his godfather. A corner of Hermione's mind still told her it was dangerous for her to trust so much, especially at this school. But she also knew in her heart of hearts that she had gone so far with it all that it would already be a tremendous blow if she found now later that the whole thing had just been one great hoax. It would probably be even worse for Harry, though, she reflected. At least Hermione could still take comfort in the love of her family. Harry had no one - and he was beginning to rely on Sirius as the family he'd never had.

Sirius hadn't been seen on the playground again after the day she and Harry had been called to Snape's office. It seemed he was one step ahead of the headmaster, although Hermione wasn't sure exactly how - but then many things about Sirius were very difficult to explain.

One week after they had first met Sirius in the pantry storage room and been discovered by Sister Barnes, she and Harry had been standing together in the chapel for Sunday morning mass. They had felt slightly surprised and extremely apprehensive when Sister Jones had walked up and taken them away by the hand just after the first reading. She had guided them firmly - but without explanation - to a little used classroom in the adjacent wing. And there, before their very eyes, her face had changed, and they had found themselves looking at the guard they had met the week before - and then again at a straggly long-haired, bearded man in tattered robes.

Hermione had screamed very loudly, only dimly aware of Harry's protests beside her. She had wanted to run away very badly - out into the hallway, back to the church, or away from this horrible school. But she hadn't. It was only through the force of her will and exploding curiosity that Hermione had managed to keep her feet squarely planted in the classroom and forced herself to listen to what this Sirius had had to say.

And it had gone on like that every Sunday morning. After that, Hermione and Harry had just walked out by themselves - always in the same way, after the first reading. The whole thing was madness: normally, if anyone dared to leave chapel during Sunday morning service, they would find themselves swiftly confronted by Sister Barnes. One had to beg and plead for a visit to the toilet. But as she and Harry had left the chapel each Sunday morning for each of the past few weeks, no one had so much as batted an eyelash. Hermione didn't know how except that it was all somehow part of the magic that Sirius practiced.

Sirius's "memory charms" as he called them were the least of the wonders Harry and Hermione had been shown during their special lessons. The strange man who had come into their midst could make flowers appear out of thin air, desks fly, and people change their colors to blend into the background like chameleons. What was more: she and Harry had learned to practice magic themselves. Moving objects had been just the beginning: they had learned conjuring, levitation, and even a few of what Sirius called "defensive spells." They had real wands now, not just sticks with bits of feathers sticking out. Hermione kept hers in her pocket everywhere she went and under her pillow at night lest it be discovered. She clearly recalled her excitement three weeks before when she found she had left her pen in a previous class and had discreetly conjured a new one.

But though she almost could not help but trust Sirius now after all he had shown them, Hermione also knew there were many things he still wasn't telling them. He had said their memories had been taken away but they didn't know by whom or why. Nor did they know how he had come to the school. Sometimes, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that they were being prepared for some sort of purpose, but she had little clue as to what that purpose could be.

For the first few weeks, it had been just her and Harry, but then other students had joined, each of them first led away from the chapel service by one of the nuns who later turned out to be Sirius in disguise. Some were from the original group Hermione had described in her diary which she was starting to believe was the truth: Colin and his brother Dennis had joined and most recently, Arabella. Hermione was most glad she had been included. She had insisted on being there when Sirius had first led Arabella away from the chapel and had held her younger friend's hand when she'd predictably screamed at his change in appearance. Sirius seemed to delight in his disguises and the first magic to which every new student in the group was witness involved his transformations. As he had said once, shock and contradiction were the best teachers of the unknown and impossible.

Sirius had also introduced new students that had not been mentioned in Hermione's diary: a boy named Euan Abercrombie and a girl called Eloise Midgen. He seemed to know who all the magicians were. Maybe he could see some hidden talent in them. He had told them there were others - including Lavender and Dean - but he needed to introduce each into the group slowly.

But now Lavender seemed to have noticed what others did not, although she had reached her predictably erroneous conclusion about what Harry and Hermione's disappearances really meant. Hermione broke herself out of her reverie to notice that her roommate continued to stand in place, staring at her with an all-knowing smirk which Hermione desperately wanted to wipe away.

"Lavender, if you tell anyone..."

Hermione was content to let Lavender believe she had scored some sort of symbolic victory in their contest of wills if it would keep her from babbling. Not that anyone would believe her, Hermione hoped, if it contradicted what they apparently falsely remembered. Still...

Hermione felt almost relieved when Lavender responded with a very self-satisfied smile. "Why do you think I would tell anyone?"

Hermione chose not to respond.

"I'm proud of you, actually, Hermione. I didn't think you had it in you. But I still don't see how you're getting away with it."

"That will still have to be my secret for now, but if you _really_ want to know, you could come with us on Sunday."

Hermione bit her lip as soon as the suggestion had left her mouth. Still, Lavender wouldn't have allowed her curiosity to go unsatisfied for too long without talking. She only hoped that Sirius could cover for her.

"What? When you two go snogging?"

Hermione could not completely restrain a smirk.

"Just to learn how we do it. Getting away from church, that is. Unless you're afraid, of course?"

Hermione watched as her roommate seemed to fight an internal battle between her infamous sense of curiosity and her better judgment. Hermione was not surprised when the curiosity won.

"All right," she said. "I _suppose_ you wouldn't trick me into falling afoul of the nuns."

Hermione held her hands out in a gesture of innocence. "Believe me, Lavender, I'd never wish anyone on the nuns."

Lavender studied Hermione again but she seemed satisfied this time and gave her roommate a short nod.

"I still think you should stay and watch the game."

"To each her own."

Hermione quickly turned away, netball still in hand, before Lavender could ask her any more questions.

* * *

Ginny could already hear the deafening roar of the crowd as the Gryffindor Quidditch team stood in the locker room waiting to go out onto the field. She was heartened to know that Gryffindor vs. Slytherin still provoked so much passion even if most of the enthusiasm was directed toward the team whose players hadn't disappeared into another dimension. Looking at her rag-tag charges, she was disheartened to see that the sound outside seemed to them more intimidating than stirring. Had the famous Gryffindor courage succumbed to frequent failures and botched practices? Or, in this reality, had the Sorting Hat been forced to let cowards into the house just to keep up a minimum quota?

Ginny wisely kept both of these thoughts to herself. Her team needed as much confidence-boosting as Ginny could conjure. And it would have be a conjuring act indeed.

"Slytherin has the best team, we know that," she began, not at all sure how her sentence was going to end. Jack Sloper gave her an ominous nod. "But none of that matters."

Ginny paused for a moment, half-expecting to find herself contradicted, but when there was no response, she continued to plow on:

"Gryffindor and Slytherin have a proud rivalry. And Slytherin has not always won - "

"They haven't?" asked a slightly terrified-looking third year Chaser named Sarah, who, as far as Ginny could recall, hadn't even been a student at Hogwarts in the reality she remembered.

"No," replied Ginny, sighing slightly. "They haven't. And they won't always. As long as we - "

There was a loud shuffling of footsteps. Neville Longbottom, his robes askew and his hair as ruly as a hedgehog's came running into the changing room. Neville had first shown up to practice the week after Harry had disappeared. Ginny wasn't quite sure what position he played since, by her account, there were now one too many Chasers on the team. But on top of the embarrassment of not realizing she was captain of the team, she had not yet been able to stomach any more questions to which she was already supposed to know the answer.

"A - a - am I late?" Neville croaked.

"No, Neville," replied Ginny, trying to keep her voice neutral.

"I - I - I lost my Remembrall," Neville tried to explain. "I - I couldn't remember I'd forgotten anything."

"Don't worry, Neville, you're not the only one, believe me," Ginny muttered under her breath. She sighed again and took one last look at her team. She could just have led them out onto the field but she decided she still had one more thing to say:

"All I wanted to say was... everyone thinks Slytherin has the better side. Maybe they do, but ten Slytherins don't have the heart of even one Gryffindor. We've beaten Hufflepuff already."

Ginny broke off and looked around at her team, hoping that no one would contradict the result she remembered from a different reality the previous term. When no one spoke up and, slightly heartened, Ginny pressed on:

"And Ravenclaw upset Slytherin. I know we can beat Ravenclaw. If we can win this game, the cup is ours. It's easy to be on the side with the most people, to support the side that everyone cheers for. It's much harder to be the smaller team in the smaller and less popular house. That's what takes real courage. And that's what being in Gryffindor is really about."

Ginny had reached the end of her thoughts. She wasn't at all sure whether she had said anything inspiring and cast around in her mind for something to add, but then the sound of a distant whistle signaled to them that it was time to move onto the pitch. Gripping her broomstick in her hand like a sword, she turned around and led her team out into the bright glare of a cool, clear early spring day.

Madam Hooch's replacement (though no one remembered him as such) was a thin, wiry wizard with slightly graying temples and an extremely nervous constitution. Ron had told Ginny he'd once been a Chaser for the Chudley Cannons but Ginny couldn't help but think this must have been a long time ago. In the short time that she'd known him, Ginny hadn't so much as seen him mount a broom. She was convinced that if he did, Mr. Peebles would likely faint or fall off, or possibly both.

Seeming deaf to the increasing crescendo of the crowd around him, Peebles moved to the center of the pitch. Ginny found she would have given anything for one of Madam Hooch's pep talks if it would have restored normalcy to the school. It seemed that all that Peebles could stomach was moving into the center of the pitch, nervously opening the trunk; releasing the Bludgers, Snitch, and Quaffle; and quickly recoiling to the side stands, a pair of Omnioculars his only tool in judging the game.

Since Peebles just released the Quaffle from the box into the air instead of throwing it up as Madam Hooch had done, it never got much height. Ginny saw two Slytherin Chasers head toward it but she had anticipated better and fell into a sharp dive. The strength of Harry's old Firebolt propelled her downward to the Quaffle ahead of them. Before they could react, she swooped sharply up again and looked up the field, hoping to see one of her teammates out ahead of her. The only player who seemed open was Neville. Seeing that he didn't have a club in his hand, Ginny hoped he was a fellow Chaser. He looked slightly surprised as she threw the Quaffle quickly up in his direction but managed to grab it and make his way steadily up the pitch, dodging a Bludger on the way. Ginny guided her Firebolt forward and accelerated past him, hoping he would pass forward to her.

The commentary, provided by a squeaky third-year Hufflepuff named Tobias White who had been given the position before his voice had started to change, became increasingly animated as they moved up the field. Ginny felt a surge of adrenalin as she realized they had succeeded in manufacturing an early breakaway against the Slytherin side. If they could score here, albeit largely on the strength of her own efforts, perhaps the team would begin to believe it could pull off an upset against their stronger and faster opponents.

She looked across and saw that Neville was still moving slowly. She yelled at him to pass. He looked across at her slightly strangely for a moment as though he hadn't heard her properly. Feeling exasperated and fearing the defending Slytherin Chasers would gain on them, Ginny yelled out to him again. She could have sworn Neville had given her a slight shrug of his shoulders just before he heaved the Quaffle underhanded in her direction just before a Slytherin Chaser closed in on him.

Ginny reached back a little and grabbed the Quaffle, then moved in alone on the Slytherin Keeper McShane who shifted across to intercept her. She quickly decided she would fake to the nearest hoop on her left before angling the Quaffle back through the hoop at the furthest right. It was a difficult shot but Ginny had tried it many times on Ron in practice and she was confident she would succeed. She wouldn't shoot right away, though; she needed to edge in closer first.

Ginny could hear Tobias's commentary rising in pitch like the cry of a frightened bird, but she ignored its content, concentrating instead on the forming play. She also heard boos and hisses growing louder from the largely partisan Slytherin crowd as she neared the hoops. But Ginny fought back a surge of righteous anger that the booing was drowning the cheers of the depleted Gryffindor supporters. She knew it was attempt to distract her from her game and she wasn't about to allow it to succeed. She glided in, almost on top of the Keeper, and had already thrown her fake, when the sharp unmistakable sound of Peebles's whistle forced her to stop. She followed McShane's gaze down to the pitch where Peebles was now running and flailing his arms in the air, the Slytherin captain Hall by his side.

Ginny was unable to restrain her feelings of anger and injustice this time. It was bad enough that all the odds had been stacked against them. Now, when they might have had the chance to achieve some small victory against all those odds, even that had been snatched unscrupulously from them: why had Peebles stopped the play? Ginny hadn't fouled anyone. No Slytherin player had gotten anywhere near her. Still holding onto the Quaffle, Ginny sped quickly down to the pitch, stopping very sharply in front of Peebles who flinched and took a step backwards.

"What were you _doing_?" demanded Hall.

"Trying to score! Or is that against the rules for any side playing against Slytherin?" Ginny shot back.

Several other Gryffindor and Slytherin players had flown down onto the field now. Ginny tried to ignore - once again - how big the Slytherin players were and how eager they seemed for a scrum then and there on the pitch.

Peebles cleared his throat nervously and Ginny turned her burning eyes to him.

"I - I hate to interrupt this friendly conversation between two captains but might I point out, Miss Weasley, that you play the position of _Seeker_ on this team and the Seeker does not normally handle the Quaffle and score."

Ginny was about to deliver a sharp retort when she caught the bewildered expressions on the faces of her own teammates. Ron shook his head very slightly. There was a very long pause during which Ginny opened her mouth up and down like a wordless fish.

"Oh," she said finally. "I see."

* * *

The midfielder from Barringer Wing was taller than Harry, far more powerfully built, and obviously knew his way around a football pitch far better than he, but that didn't stop Harry from moving right into his path. He had been faked once by this chap but he wouldn't let it happen again. Harry briefly stared into the hardened steel of his adversary's cobalt eyes and wondered what violent crime had found him in this school. But then he forced his attention down to the ball. "Keep your eyes on the ball," was what Dean was always telling him. He knew he had looked up too soon in the last play and he was certain it had made him far easier to fake. He was not going to make the same mistake again.

His opponent seemed as dexterous as he was strong and his feet moved back and forth with a dancer's nimbleness as he tried to step around Harry. But Harry refused to commit. His opponent was forced to try to run around to his right but with a burst of speed, Harry cut him off and made contact with the ball. He kept his feet closed as Dean had taught him to do as he tackled over the ball with his opponent. Finally, Harry gained clean possession and moved the ball ahead. He successfully faked his way around his opponent who found himself pursuing Harry back into his own zone.

Harry heard a shout further to his left and saw Dean who was playing left forward running alongside him in the clear. The roar of the supporting students grew in volume and Harry knew he was part of a serious scoring chance for his team. Harry forced the euphoria at his achievement aside, however, as he concentrated on keeping the ball out ahead of him. He was getting closer to the goal now and could see the Barringer keeper edging further out, studying the play anxiously to try and anticipate Harry's next move. Looking straight ahead to the Keeper, Harry faked a shot and then passed across to Dean. A step back from Harry and still onside, Dean pulled his foot back and let go a shot. It was hard but a little bit wide and the ball bounced off the side goalpost and then sailed high in the air and came straight back toward Harry.

It was an unusually clear day - the clearest they had seen for some while. Harry watched the ball as it twirled through the sky. He didn't like it but he knew what he had to do next: it was the shot Dean had taught him in practice, the shot any good striker had to possess, the shot that could give them the sure goal should Harry make good contact - the scissor kick.

Harry could hear the pounding of the defender's feet just behind him as the ball neared and then the crunch of his body as they both jockeyed for position. Finally, as the ball arched almost over his head, Harry planted his hands on the ground. His eyes darting back and forth quickly between his now upside-down opponent and the ball, Harry wheeled his whole body back into the shot, arched his feet up to make contact -

And missed.

Harry's feet collapsed sideways and his back hit the ground hard as he fell awkwardly out of the attempted shot. He heard but did not see the ball bouncing off the midfielder's head. Laughter rang out from the Barringer supporters and Harry's opponent made his way back up the field with the ball.

Harry was still looking up at the sky, his back stinging, when Dean ran breathlessly over, moving into his line of sight.

"Are you all right?" he asked, offering a hand which Harry took.

Harry forced himself painfully into a standing position.

"I - I don't think they're stopping play," said Dean breathlessly, one eye up the field where Barringer was mounting an attack. "Just - just don't look at the defender - _keep your eye on the ball._"

And with that, Dean tore back up the field.

"'Keep my eye on the ball,' right," Harry muttered sighing. And then, ignoring the pain, he got up and followed Dean.

The spring sun was moving down fast in the sky now and the shadows of the team and the ball were lengthening. The game was a three-three draw. Personally, Dean had never liked draws and he knew the nuns wouldn't stop the school to let the game go on much longer. He and Harry had moved in hard on the keeper and forced him to kick the ball out of bounds. As a result, his team had now been awarded a corner kick. Dean knew that with little time remaining, this was their best chance to win.

But as Dean scanned the play, he could see that the Barringer fullbacks had his forwards closely guarded. Justin Finch-Fetchley kept jostling for position with Philip Stone, a sturdy defender whom rumor had it had been placed in the school for something rather nasty: he was also, Dean knew, a very able player. Behind him Mark Jones seemed equally tied up with another defender whose name Dean couldn't remember.

Compared with them, Harry was somewhat more open, but he was standing back from the play. His defender had moved further out in front of him to be nearer the thick of the scrum where the ball was sure to arc through. But the defender was still in his way. Dean knew that if he hit the ball on the ground, it would never get through the pile of players to Harry. On the other hand, the defender was standing far enough out in front of Harry that if Dean hit it through the air and it went over his head, Harry would surely gain possession with a good chance to score.

Dean frowned at this thought, however. It was not that he didn't think Harry had a good enough shot. But it was likely the ball would still be in the air by the time it reached him. He had picked Harry to the team because he had proved an excellent dribbler and he didn't have a half-bad shot but anything in the air seemed to cause trouble. He hadn't quite mastered heading and then there was the scissor kick.

Sister Adams was looking impatient and Dean knew he had to kick the ball right away or risk being accused of stalling. He had all but decided to try and hit Justin with a short pass when something made his foot lift and guide the football out in Harry's direction. As he watched its flight, Dean couldn't help but feel an irrational confidence that whatever ball sailed through the air would be mastered by Harry before too long. He watched the defender guarding Harry open his eyes wide as the ball went over his head. He tried to run back to meet it, realizing it would fall into Harry's possession, but the ball was moving too fast. Dean watched, his heart pounding loudly, as Harry focused his eyes on the ball, then put his hands on the ground and curled his feet into the shot like a springing jack-in-the-box.

Harry didn't get all of the ball but it was enough to redirect it toward into the top corner of the net. The Barringer keeper tried to leap up toward it but he was too late. Dean watched its flight in disbelief. A second later, he saw Mark and Justin running toward him, screaming in victory and lifting him up off his feet. Dean's eyes were still fixed on Harry, however, who had fallen flat on his back again and appeared to be in some pain. But he could not conceal a large grin as he ran over to his fallen teammate and held out his hand, which Harry took.

"I knew you could do it, mate!"

Harry winced in pain. "Yeah," he managed. "But I think my back is broken."

"Never mind that. We're in the lead and we're surely going to win now!"

"Yeah, we're surely going to win," repeated Harry. He managed a weak smile before letting go of Dean's arm and collapsing back to the ground.

* * *

Luna Lovegood opened a thick, moldy page to the thirty-second chapter of _The E.T. in our Owleries: What the Ministry Isn't Telling You_ and scanned it closely. Ginny continued to insist that aliens had nothing to do with the memory losses but Luna couldn't see what made her so sure. Besides, Luna wasn't very good at looking for disguised glass balls but she did know how to research a banned book. And if these books could be believed (and she couldn't see why not; why would the Ministry ban anything if they thought it was made up and nonsense?), then extra-terrestrial beings had used mass memory charms to conceal a number of botched attempts at inter-planetary colonization. She was fairly certain that another attempt was in progress and the longer it went on, the more likely it was to succeed. Sighing, Luna recalled a time when she had thought that the xenophobes were just shy; how could she have been so naïve?

This book had claimed to uncover all the Ministry's secrets about the invasion plans but only in this chapter had it begun to address the disguises the aliens assumed. Luna knew that the Quidditch game had probably already started but she was far too engrossed to stop reading now.

Luna's eyes widened. "I'm sure there's a little first-year Hufflepuff who looks just like that," she said aloud. "And he wasn't here before this year. Very suspicious. I wonder if - "

Luna paused. There was what sounded like a scuffling noise coming from somewhere near her feet.

"That's odd," she said, looking around. "What - "

Before Luna could finish her sentence, a primal scream erupted under the desk.

"Shakespeare? Shakespeare, where are you going? What's wrong?"

A large fat mass of green fur which had been curled around Luna's feet escaped from behind her desk and sprinted across to the floor to the far end, wheezing and hissing all the way to the Carnivorous Cauldrons section. Just ahead of it was a slightly overweight rat, its tail flickering back and forth anxiously, and its heart thumping visibly as it tried to escape from becoming Shakespeare's afternoon snack.

The rat reached the bookshelves and ran quickly up and through the bindings and toward the exit of the trunk. Shakespeare was not as used to climbing and the rat had gained some distance but as it reached the top and found the door closed, its hungry pursuer slowly began to close in, stalking the last few meters as he sensed his kill.

"Oh, no." Luna gave a small gasp and took out her wand. "_Alohomora._"

The door to the trunk flew open and the rat leapt back through the opening. Shakespeare moved to follow but Luna quickly charmed the door shut.

Shakespeare reserved his loudest cry for his master and sulked methodically back to the desk. Luna ignored him until he leapt up on top of the book she had returned to reading and began hissing at her. Even after that, she still took her time before glancing back at him reproachfully.

"That's not a very nice sound, now is it?" she said. "Here." She reached into her pocket and took out a tired looking piece of bread which seemed to have been smuggled away from lunch. She held it out to Shakespeare who snapped it up quickly.

"That's much better," Luna declared. "I don't think we want rat blood all over the bookshelves. Some of these books are very precious and the Ministry rarely needs to ban things twice." Luna paused. "Though I do wonder how that rat found its way in here. Must have come in when I opened the trunk."

Luna frowned for a moment but then turned her attention back to her book. She looked up a few moments later, however, looking slightly puzzled. She had seen something in the Carnivorous Cauldrons stacks just then that hadn't been right. Squinting up in their direction, Luna caught it again, flashing in the corner of her eye.

"That's a bit odd," she said aloud again. Shakespeare purred as if in response, then began sniffing the floor, apparently hoping to pick up the trail of the rat again.

Luna got up out of her seat again and walked over slowly to the bookshelves. The out-of-place object continued to catch her eye.

"That's funny. I thought only the Atomic Potions books glowed."

Walking closer, she reached up on tiptoe, and took a book out of her hands. The light from the object behind it cast a bright red glow over her face.

"There you are," she said, taking the object out from inside. "My, you _have_ grown large, haven't you? And how ever did you find your way there?"

* * *

Ginny tried to put the whole thing out of her mind. They had a game to win and her team had done remarkably well under the circumstances. They were holding Slytherin to a thirty-point lead - 70-40 - mostly thanks to several spectacular saves by Ron.

She was up above the play now and they still had the chance to win as long as she could find the Snitch before Malfoy. She preferred it this way, she told herself. Now she could look the Death Eater in the eye and show him that after everything he'd done this year, he still hadn't crushed her spirit. And she was damned if he was going to catch the Snitch before she did.

Yet even as Ginny felt the anger and determination surge through her, she couldn't help but steal a look down at the play to see her erstwhile fellow Chaser Susan Richards badly fumble a pass to Neville. The Slytherin Chaser Wainwright easily stole the Quaffle and hurled through the hoop before Ron had even realized his team had lost possession. Part of Ginny itched to take her old position back. At least she had kept their defense mostly in check. And what had she been telling Susan all during practice? Ginny took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down. She tried to remind herself that she should have left those worries behind in practice. There she could be a captain and a coach - now she was the Seeker. Ginny was fairly sure Harry wouldn't have been caught watching the play when he was supposed to be looking for the Snitch.

But as soon as Ginny looked back ahead of her to spot the flash of the Snitch in the air, she found to her horror that Malfoy was diving hard toward a spot just to the right of the Slytherin posts on the opposite side of the field. Grabbing the handle of her broomstick as though she were pulling on the reins of a horse, Ginny sped hard toward him. Her Firebolt surged forward at her will but Malfoy was much too far ahead of her. Cursing herself a hundred times over for having let her attention wander, Ginny only hoped the Snitch would make itself too difficult for Malfoy to catch. She seemed to get her way when she saw him start to swoop and turn in circles in the air. He held his gloved hand out in front of him but so far had grabbed only air.

Ginny still couldn't see the Snitch herself but she knew how difficult it could be to pick up when it was cutting and dicing through the air. As she moved closer and closer to Malfoy, she began to think that she might have a chance to catch up to him.

The crowd started to react to their play. Ginny had almost reached the lower goal posts through which Malfoy had been circling when he suddenly swooped up straight for her. Ginny pulled up sharply on her Firebolt to stop just as Malfoy did the same, inches from her face. Neither flinched.

"Looking for something, Ginny?"

Ginny forced herself not to back away from Malfoy's stare. Malfoy seemed to be sizing up her nerve and Ginny was determined not to show any weakness. Yet something in his eyes made her suddenly far more afraid than she had felt when their broomsticks had been about to collide. There was an odd determination and depth that she had never before seen in his normally nonchalant and slightly disconcerted demeanor. She sensed right away that he had planned this encounter.

"I told you never to call me Ginny," she finally replied.

"Did you?" Malfoy replied coolly, raising an eyebrow. "I suppose I must have forgotten. Perhaps my memory isn't what it used to be."

"I'd love to stay and chat, Malfoy, but if you're not chasing the Snitch then I have a game to play."

Ginny angled her Firebolt back toward the field of play but Malfoy's hand closed over the top of its shaft and he swung both broomstick and rider back to face him.

"Hey!"

"A word of advice in your ear, Ginny. A good Seeker always chases the Snitch, never the other team's Seeker." He leaned in closer and Ginny winced as she smelt his breath on her face. "Potter would never have done that, you know. I'm surprised he didn't tell you. But then again, I don't suppose he had the chance to do much coaching before he left."

Something inside Ginny snapped. Before she knew what she was doing, her fist had flown up hard at Malfoy's face, but he flinched away from her with surprising quickness. He then righted himself and disentangled his broomstick from hers. She felt her insides burn with anger as he hovered a few feet away from her, a smirk dancing across his face.

"You won't get away with this," she hissed, hoping she sounded braver than she felt. "You haven't stopped us - _any_ of us."

"Really? Do go on, Ginny. I'd love to hear all about your plans."

Before Ginny could muster a retort, she heard a familiar whirring sound in her ear. She looked up quickly to see the Snitch dancing in front of her. She made a quick grab but it flew out of her grasp. It danced playfully in front of Malfoy's head for a moment and then zipped out further to field.

Ginny quickly aimed her Firebolt down under Malfoy and out back toward the field in pursuit. She effortlessly weaved and turned her broomstick but keeping her eyes on the small, fast-moving ball with the distracting background of the crowds behind it was a very difficult matter. She hoped Malfoy wouldn't be able to keep pursuit, especially at the speed they were traveling but then she heard rather than saw the Snitch turn sharply to her right, then sharply back toward the goalpost so that, in following it, Ginny found herself once again in a head-on collision with Malfoy. Ginny's heart sank as she saw the Snitch heading directly into his gloved hand almost as if he had willed it there. She kept flying toward it, though, determined not to let it out of her sight. The crowd seemed to take in a sharp collective breath as the two seekers barreled toward each other, the Snitch in between them. Finally, the Snitch within his grasp, Malfoy held out his hand for it.

And then, at the last minute, he veered underneath the golden ball and collided with Ginny. Too shocked to react, Ginny felt him seize her broomstick and body in a vice-like grip. Earth and sky merged as they tumbled around and around. When they finally righted themselves, they were heading toward the goalposts once again, the Snitch now fluttering a few dozen yards ahead of them.

"What are you doing, Malfoy? You had the Snitch! LET ME GO!"

"But I gave it up for a much nicer prize," said a sickening voice in her ear.

Ginny squirmed in Malfoy's embrace even as she tried to hold onto her Firebolt which was clattering hard against Malfoy's Nimbus 2002.

"_I'm warning you, Malfoy!"_

"Warning me what? Why do you resist me so, Ginny? I told you before, none of your friends are coming back. Potter isn't coming back, either. Wouldn't it be easier just to let everything go?"

Ginny tried to free her hand to strike the Slytherin Seeker but Malfoy kept his arms locked around her body with surprising strength. She heard the gasps of the crowd but as yet, no foul had been called.

"If you'd only stop struggling we can catch the Snitch together, Ginny."

Ginny forced her gaze ahead to see that they were once again gaining on the Snitch. Malfoy seemed to be using the speed from her own Firebolt to pursue it. As they flew within grabbing distance, Ginny suddenly stopped resisting.

"That's much better," came Malfoy's horrible voice. "Now if you will allow me..."

Malfoy's left hand moved away from Ginny's back and reached out quickly for the Snitch. As soon as he did so, however, Ginny freed her right arm, searched for and found the tender skin under Malfoy's left rib cage and squeezed hard. Malfoy let out a cry of pain and fell away from the Snitch. He began to tumble off his broomstick, only at the last minute using his right arm to grab hold of it like a life preserver. The Snitch made a sharp turn up into the sky but before it could fly out of her reach, Ginny reached out and grabbed it. She could hear Malfoy speeding back toward her and turned her broomstick sharply down toward the pitch. She landed on the ground and held the Snitch up in her hand defiantly as the cries of the few faithful Gryffindor supporters trickled down to her from the stands. Amid the scattered applause came the pleasant sound of a whistle being blown.

"Gryffindor wins!" Peebles declared, his voice breaking in apparent over-excitement.

Ginny hadn't realized she was still shaken from her close encounter with Malfoy until she felt a rush of relief as the rest of the Gryffindor team landed in turn and formed a close, protective circle around her.

"Are you all right?" asked Ron, looking very pale. "That bloody creep! When I get my hands on - "

Ginny's hand came up to her brother's elbow in a restraining gesture.

"Just forget about it, now," she said, surprised and annoyed at the fear she still heard in her own voice. "He won't dare try that again, believe me. Besides, we won." Ginny felt her face brighten. "We really won, Ron!"

Ron smiled back, a deep, warm, almost giddy smile suffusing his cheeks with color. "I - I never thought we could, really, I suppose. I mean, I reckon it'll take a while to sink in. We actually beat Slytherin!"

"_Hem, hem._"

Ginny saw Ron's smile fade abruptly away and she was fairly certain hers had, too. Wanting to do anything in the world but turn around and face the owner of the voice behind them, the two Weasleys nonetheless bowed to the inevitable.

Umbridge was walking toward them, flanked by a nervous looking Peebles and a pale, limping Malfoy who fixed Ginny with a mock accusatory stare. Ginny was about to ask him how being grabbed in the rib cage could result in a limp when Umbridge's saccharine voice broke in:

"I'm afraid that's not quite true, Mr. Weasley. You see, I'm afraid that your team's Seeker caught the Snitch only after committing the most heinous of fouls against Mr. Weasley here. Mr. Peebles is not the only one who watches the game with a pair of Omnioculars." Umbridge held up her right hand to show an extremely large pair of Omnioculars plastered with several stickers of smiling cats.

Ginny took an ordinary but very significant step toward the Headmistress. Ron tried to grab onto her elbow in restraint but she angrily shook him off.

"_I _fouled _him_?" she demanded. "_He was grabbing me against his putrid excuse for a body!"_

Peebles cleared his throat very slightly. "I - I - I did think the two fouls rather cancelled each other out," he suggested. "In fact, I was going to - "

Peebles's eyes grew very wide as Umbridge turned her head toward him and presented her sweetest of smiles. It was obvious to Ginny that under the scrutiny of Umbridge's simple gesture any courage Peebles had managed to muster had now vanished altogether. but Ginny herself was far from finished.

"What have you got to say to that?" she demanded at Umbridge, fully aware that she was now shouting. Peebles let out a small squeak and his eyes begged at Ginny to stop.

Umbridge turned to Ginny and smiled coolly.

"I'm sorry the experience was so unpleasant to you, dear. But it's obvious to me that Mr. Malfoy here caught you to stop you from hurting yourself very badly. You were hurtling toward him at quite a reckless speed. Why else would he have chosen not to catch the Snitch when it was clearly in his grasp? And look how you re-paid his kindness."

Ginny shot a quick glance at Malfoy whom she was sure had returned her look with a sly smirk before once again taking on the façade of a wounded puppy.

"All right, then," said Ginny after a moment's pause. "Let's keep playing, shall we? It won't change the outcome!"

"I'm rather afraid it shall, Miss Weasley. You see, were it not for your egregious attempt to injure Mr. Malfoy, he would surely have caught the Snitch. I'm awarding this match to Slytherin."

At these words, Peebles quickly and nervously blew his whistle. The Slytherin team broke into cheers, but this cheering along with all noise in the cavernous pitch quickly ground to a halt as Ginny took two large strides toward Umbridge and placed the toe of her boot gently on top of the headmistress's toe.

"You horrid little toad," she declared, her lips pursed.

"Ginny!" cried Ron.

"What did you call me dear?" Umbridge whispered, a vein beginning to throb just below her chin. "I don't think I heard you correctly."

"I called you a 'horrid little toad' because that's what you are!" Ginny hissed back. "You rigged this game just like you've rigged this whole school! They're just like you - _fake_!"

Ron let out a dying groan but Ginny ignored him. Umbridge looked distinctly as though she wasn't going to be able to restrain herself much longer. But then she seemed to glance almost imperceptibly over at Malfoy and her face broke into a smile.

"Why, Miss Weasley, I'm so sorry you feel that way," she replied sweetly. "I don't like to say this, dear, but I'm afraid you seem to be slipping into your troublesome fantasies again."

"Then why don't you give me a detention? Surely that's the best medicine of all for my delusions, don't you think?"

There were another series of loud gasps and this time, Ginny could no longer distinguish Ron's from the others. Umbridge's smile faded fast but then just as quickly returned. Her eyes left Ginny's and returned to the Gryffindor team.

"Mr. Longbottom?" she said.

Ginny suddenly went very pale.

"M - m - me?" she heard Neville say but could not bring herself to look back at him.

"Yes, _you_, dear," replied Umbridge, her smile broadening. "Perhaps you'd like to see me in my office Monday evening, and Tuesday evening - and perhaps Wednesday evening? I doubt more than three nights will be necessary for one with your sensitive constitution."

"B - b - but what have I done?" replied Neville, struggling to keep his voice even.

"Why, I would have thought that would have been obvious," replied Umbridge, her eyes returning to Ginny. "You have the misfortune of playing on a team with an insufferably rude captain. And if she does not manage to hold her tongue anymore, I can't promise you won't have company."

Umbridge stared at Ginny for a moment longer, then turned on her heel and walked slowly away, Peebles nervously bringing up the rear. Ginny turned to Malfoy in time to see that he seemed immensely satisfied, too, before he walked away with the rest of the Slytherin team. He didn't even bother to limp.

* * *

Harry winced as Sirius traced his wand along his lower back.

"Steady on," came the response. "It'll feel much better in a moment."

True to his godfather's word, Harry felt a pleasant cooling sensation quickly ease his pain away. Sirius broke off and turned around to face him, smiling.

"Now how's that?"

Harry twisted carefully back and forth, expecting a sharp twinge of pain at any moment, but none came.

"It's - it's amazing," he replied, looking back at Sirius in awe. "I still don't see how you do it."

"It's all magic, Harry."

"Right. But I - but I still don't see how you're getting away with this. I mean, I was supposed to report to the infirmary. Won't Sister - "

"Sister Le Barre will only recall that she did an unusually fine job treating your injury. And the cameras won't find a different story to tell either."

Harry shook his head. "It's - it's still just so hard to grasp sometimes."

Sirius folded his arms. "It's all a question of memory, really, but I'll admit it keeps me busy. I only wish I could give you _all_ your memories back, Harry. Then you'd have much fewer doubts, believe me. And I wouldn't have to re-teach you seven years of magical training."

"So you keep saying." Harry frowned and lowered his head. He felt his doubt of this man cloud his mind again like a nagging sore and he didn't want Sirius to see it. He could do so many remarkable things. Why couldn't Harry just bring himself to believe everything he said? Yet Harry couldn't shake the feeling that there will still some things that didn't add up.

"What is it, Harry?" said Sirius quietly.

Harry looked up slowly, trying to clear his knitted brows. "I - I - I'm just not sure I understand all this memory business. If you can make the nuns think we're with them when we're really with you, why can't you let us remember what we'd forgotten?"

Sirius smiled again and gave Harry a small sigh. "An excellent question, Harry, and you'd be an idiot not to wonder. I'll do the best I can: you have something known as a computer, I believe?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, think of your mind like a computer. The computer stores information. Someone could take that information out of your mind - your memories - just like taking information out of a computer."

"Like on a floppy disk?"

"Yes." Sirius hesitated. "Yes, I suppose so. _I_ can also take information away from the nuns and replace it with false memories. That's called a memory charm. But I can't bring back your memories because - "

" - Because you weren't the one who took them in the first place?"

"Exactly, Harry. And the one who took them has hidden them just like one might hide a floppy disk."

"But you said - I mean - " Harry's eyes widened. "Could my memories have been permanently removed?"

"No, Harry. There's where they're different from a computer file. They have to be stored somewhere and somewhere nearby. Even the things we naturally forget fall out of our minds around us, though we can't see them. In our world, there's such a thing as a Remembrall. It catches forgotten memories. It's not quite so sophisticated that it can bring them back but at least it can tell us when we've forgotten something."

"So," said Harry thoughtfully, still struggling to understand. "So our memories are stored in one of these Remembrall thingys?"

"Nearly right, Harry. They're not really Remembralls though I imagine they look quite like them. I've never actually seen one. They're banned on our world but unfortunately someone has revived the technology. Now it's up to me to find the one with all of your memories in it. It can't be far from here. It has to be kept nearby. But I'm afraid it's most probably disguised as something else."

"So what are you going to do with this - this memory thing when you find it?"

Sirius flashed Harry the truculent grin to which he had now grown accustomed.

"Why smash it, of course."

* * *

The Gryffindor Quidditch team and much of the rest of what was left of the house sat silently in their common room that evening. The fading afternoon light on her back told Ginny it would soon be time for dinner but she was sure she couldn't eat a single bite.

She absently recalled the day, now seemingly long ago, when Fred, George, and Harry had been given a lifetime ban from the team by Umbridge. She had sat beside him then, trying to think of something positive to say while at the same time struggling with her own ambivalent feelings for the Boy Who Lived. At the time she had felt sad and empty but the whole experience now seemed warmly nostalgic in comparison. At least they had all been there - together. At least it hadn't been she who had incurred Umbridge's wrath. Ginny honestly couldn't recall ever having felt as bad as she did now. Not even when Riddle had taken her into the Chamber. Not even when Harry had first disappeared. She had never felt such a horrible combination of anger, fear, guilt and, worst of all - loneliness.

No one had said anything to her since she had walked in the room. She had not even been able to bring herself to look Ron or Neville in the eye. But when the sunlight had all but faded from the room and the house elves had noiselessly moved in to light the torches around them, she sensed Neville's head turn to hers and heard him say:

"It doesn't matter, Ginny. You were right about her, anyway. She is a horrible toad."

Ginny looked up, noticing for the first time that he had been sitting next to her all along. She tried to think of something she could possibly bear to say in response but then, almost as if the weight on her chest had crushed her so hard she could no longer feel it, she got to her feet, turned to him and said with a determination she hadn't known she possessed:

"You're right, Neville. It doesn't matter because you're not going to any detention. Not if it's the last thing I do."

At this, the room seemed to wake from a long and torpid slumber. Anger burned in Ginny once again as she watched the expression on her brother's face change from languid and defeated to incredulous.

"And how are you going to do that?" he demanded. "Honestly, Ginny, you've gotten everyone in enough trouble as it is. You'd better just leave it alone before someone else gets the chop. Can't you see? _We can't win this_!"

"Can't _you _see, Ron?" Ginny cried stridently. "_We_ can't afford to lose! They took away our housemates, took away our team, took away our school! _Well, they're not taking anything more!"_

Ron got to his feet.

"How, Ginny? Just tell me _how_? By bringing your imaginary friends back? Do you know something: I want them back, too. You think I'd do anything but believe you, Ginny?" he asked, as though in response to the angry and hurt look on his sister's face. "I'd _give _everything for them to be real! _Anything! _But they're not. Now if you have a _real _plan to get Neville out of his detention, or to get Umbridge out of this school once and forever, no one would be happier than me to hear it, but as you don't, I suggest you - "

There was a loud knock on the outside of the portrait hole.

"Who in the name of Merlin's cracked teapots is that?" Ron demanded irritably to no one in particular. Without waiting for a response, he marched to the portrait hole which swung open to reveal Luna Lovegood.

"Oh, hello, Ronald!" she said brightly.

"What do you want?" Ron demanded brusquely. "Come to gloat, have you? I suppose with Slytherin winning, you lot have a good chance at the cup now!"

"Oh, no," replied Luna, her wide eyes appearing to take no offense. "I only came along to say that I've found Neville's Remembrall!"

Ron sighed impatiently and stood aside for Luna to enter the common room. Ginny could scarcely bear to watch as she went up to Neville and kissed him on the cheek, apparently missing altogether his ashen expression. But then something happened which took everyone's mind far away from Quidditch and Neville's looming detention: Luna reached behind her back and produced Neville's Remembrall.

"There it is! You left it in the Carnivorous Cauldrons section in my trunk. Poor dear," she said, gently stroking Neville's forehead with her thumb. "He got it into his head that his Potions assignment was going to eat him."

But no one was very interested in Neville's secret phobias. All eyes were on the Remembrall which had now enlarged to size of a Quaffle. It shone a bright dazzling red and lit up the entire room in an ethereal light.

"I'd rather be without it," declared Neville nervously. "It keeps growing. My old Remembrall never did that. I suppose I must have forgotten an awful lot of things this year."

No one responded to Neville right away. Then Ginny, her defeated expression of only moments before now vanished, got up from her chair and leaned over the table to look closely at the glowing glass ball. She said nothing for more than a minute before straightening up.

"Neville, where did you say you got this Remembrall?"

"Well," said Neville, looking even more nervous as he became aware that everyone was staring at the Remembrall. "My gran gave it to me just like she did the last one. A - and it was funny because the shop keeper seemed to want to get rid of it cheap. I think I can see why now, though."

"He's kept it covered up all year," Luna added. "It's a bit of an embarrassment, really. I suppose we ought to get rid of it, but we'd have to think of a safe - "

Ginny could contain herself no longer.

"Luna, don't you see?" she exclaimed. "It's the perfect disguise! Professor Lupin was wrong. The Death Eaters weren't moving it about. They just wanted us to think they were! They planted it in the shop in Diagon Alley for Neville's grandmother to find. They knew she would buy it for him. And they knew we wouldn't think to check it when we thought we already knew what it was!"

Ginny heard Ron sighing heavily behind her but she refused to let it put her off. Luna looked back at her with an expression that began to mirror Ginny's own as comprehension slowly dawned.

"You mean to say that..."

"This is what we've been looking for and it was right under our noses all along!"

Luna didn't say anything for a moment, then she nodded and reached over to the table and took the Remembrall back into her hands.

"I'm sorry, Neville," she said. "I'll get you another one, I promise."

She kissed her baffled-looking boyfriend on the cheek and walked briskly over toward the window.

"Wait - what - what - what are you talking about?" asked Neville. "What are you going to - "

"Luna!" Ginny's urgent voice broke in. "I'm not sure that's a very good - "

But it was too late. They could only watch as Luna pushed open the window, placed the Remembrall on its ledge, and then calmly rolled the heavy glass ball out to roll far down to the ground below.

Ginny drew in a deep breath. Part of her wanted to rush over the window to find out what had happened but another terrified part of her forced her feet to remain put. Looking around her, she saw that the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team now had their mouths open in round "O"'s but they, too, did not move. There was a sickening second of silence before several loud screams were heard coming up from below.

"Sorry!" called Luna, her head hanging out the window. "Don't worry! Just go about your business!"

There was another flurry of indistinct shouting.

"Yes, I know it was dangerous to throw a very heavy glass ball out of the window," Luna shouted loudly back, "but I'm afraid I didn't have much choice. You see we're conducting an important experiment up here. We're trying to unmask some alien xenophobes who've dug their way into the kitchen."

Ginny drew in another breath and was far from sure when she planned to let it out. However were they going to get out of this one?

"We're - " Luna broke off. "Yes, I know you're probably very cross...Yes, yes, I realize it was really a _very _heavy glass ball and that it might have done you serious damage. But it didn't, did it?... Well, an inch from your head still isn't _on_ your head, now is it?... That's a very rude word you've just used, you know, and I - "

Luna suddenly stopped. Ginny looked up from where she'd been staring listlessly down at the floor to find the Ravenclaw's head still hanging slightly out of the window but her body otherwise frozen.

"Luna?" she said. "Luna, what - "

Ginny looked around again and saw that none of the Gryffindors were moving at all. The voices from below the tower had stopped, too. But she had no sooner registered this when a series of unearthly screams began from the grounds below and rose up through the school until the floors underneath them shook with the noise. Then, as Ginny continued to stare at Luna's prone form, a red light rose to the level of the windows like the devil bursting out from the depths of hell. It spread straight across and intensified until finally it colored the whole sky crimson. It hung for a moment like a majestic curtain over the setting sun, and then surged like a wave through the common room.

Ginny's hands flew quickly to her eyes as the light grew too dazzling to bear. Immediately the whole common room broke into the same bloodcurdling screams she had heard coming from below but no sound made its way out of Ginny's throat. The flash was only brief. A moment later, Ginny's eyelids went dark and the screaming stopped. Ginny took her arms away from her eyes and cautiously opened them.

The whole room was silent. Luna had slumped to the floor just in front of the window. Everyone else stared straight ahead as though they were in a trance.

"Ron! Luna! Neville! Someone say something!"

Luna's head suddenly snapped up toward her. Ginny ran quickly over to her fallen friend and crouched down beside her.

"Luna, are you are all right?"

Luna looked up at her strangely and for one sickening moment, Ginny was sure she hadn't remembered who she was, but then she gave Ginny a familiar-looking frown and said:

"That's funny. I don't remember any aliens, just an odd group of people who used to go to school here."

Ginny was about to respond when she heard a loud sob issuing from somewhere behind her. She got back to her feet and looked at the table. Her housemates still stared ahead blankly but one thing had changed: a single tear now rolled down her brother's right cheek.

"Ron?" she asked, and then more gently: "Ron, are you all right?"

Ron said nothing for a moment, then he sniffed and with great effort opened his mouth:

"Oh, gods," he croaked. "_Hermione_."


	14. Red Sky At Morning

**Chapter 14**

**Red Sky at Morning**

Ginny stared down at Ron for a long moment. She wasn't at all sure what to say; she didn't even know what to think.

It was Neville who finally broke the silence:

"I - I don't understand," he said. "What did I - wh - what's going on? I - I remember - Ginny, we're not - what's going on?"

Ginny looked up to see that all eyes had turned to her. With a breaking of glass and a flash of red light, the madness of her lingering memories had been reproduced many times over.

It was Luna who spoke, however.

"Isn't it obvious? Ginny was right all along. Someone stole all our memories and placed them in Neville's Remembrall - except it wasn't _really _a Remembrall, I suppose, just something very much like one. Then they gave us all false memories to replace the ones that had been taken." Luna reeved up her nose. "And I thought having _one _roommate was awful; now I remember I have _four_! I hope Pixie Proudfoot doesn't come back, though. She had the awful habit of - "

"But _who_?" demanded Susan Richards, "and why?"

Ginny looked almost pleadingly at Luna. Her friend shrugged and said matter-of-factly:

"You-Know-Who, I suppose, and I was _sure _it was the alien xenophobes. It would have just like them to - "

"_Where are they?_"

Ron's voice was so hoarse and raw with emotion that Ginny almost didn't recognize it was him speaking. Even Luna quickly stopped and looked across at him somewhat fearfully.

"Where's Harry?" Ron asked again, looking across at Ginny with eyes that seemed impossibly hurt, guilt-stricken, and accusatory all the same. "_Where's Hermione?"_

"They're in another dimension, Ron," said Ginny cautiously, as though talking to her brother was like walking on nails. "They're - they're beyond the - beyond the veil."

A half dozen different voices broke into an incoherent cacophony. Ginny quickly raised her own voice in response.

"They're not dead!" she cried out. "At least I don't think so," she added a little more quietly, seeming surprised to find that her own voice had silenced the others so effectively.

"But how do we find them?" asked Neville.

"I - I don't know," Ginny admitted, lowering her own head so she couldn't see the crestfallen expressions on the faces of her fellow Gryffindors. "We've got to find Dumbledore somehow. He's still in our dimension. He sent me a note. But first, we've got to be on our guard." Ginny looked up again, the sudden danger and urgency of the situation they were now in breaking her out of her reverie. "I doubt Umbridge and Malfoy have missed what's just happened."

"You don't think they could put another Memory Charm on us, do you?" asked Luna. "I only had to conjure the ball I made from the book after all. I suppose they could just make another one."

Ginny didn't answer for a moment. She frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think it would be that easy," she finally said. "Remember..." Her eyes suddenly lit up. "Yes, I think it must be true! They can only administer the Memory Charms at night; they always do it while we're sleeping." She looked to Luna for confirmation.

"It can be done during the day," she said in reply, "but whoever was doing it would have to be right in front of whomever they were doing it on just like I did with Ronald."

"What?" demanded Ron.

Luna ignored him and went on. "And, of course, that wouldn't work well for them. No, they'd really have to do it when we were sleeping if they wanted to get a wide enough range. And, of course, they have to get into all of our heads at once to synchronize the false memories or else we'd all remember something different. That's how the aliens did it."

"So as long as we're still awake we're all right," replied Ginny, flinching only slightly.

"Good thing you've mentioned it," quipped Ron. "I feel just like dozing off. Malfoy!" he cried suddenly. "Malfoy doesn't - he _remembers_ - he's remembered all along! He - he didn't cast any spell on you at all, Ginny, h - he - he knew that a spell had been cast on - on the rest of us..." Ron's voice trailed off. "Oh, goddess." He buried his head in his hands.

"That's what I was trying to tell you all along, Ron," said Ginny quietly.

Ron looked up from the table and stared at his sister in disbelief. He seemed about to say something else when an all too familiar voice rang out around them.

"All students will report - report immediately to the Great Hall. There has been - there has been a - a most unfortunate magical accident. I - I - do not return to your common rooms. Do not delay. Come straight to the hall _at once!"_

Ginny smiled as she heard the terrified quiver in Umbridge's voice. But her pleasure was short lived as the content of the bogus headmistress's words sunk in. The Death Eaters might not be able to perform another mass Memory Charm but there were far nastier things they still could do.

She looked at her friends and housemates and found that all eyes were looking back at her. Ginny didn't know whether to laugh or cry: she had gone from lunatic to sage in ten minutes. But a far more sober thought won out: however strange, she was now their leader and it was her responsibility to take them well-prepared into the inevitable danger that awaited.

"We go," she said. "Staying here will only make things worse. But wands out."

There was no hesitation on the part of the others. One by one her housemates took hold of their wands as though marching into battle. A few doors opened around them and other Gryffindors emerged, all looking wide-eyed and wordless but each taking out their wands when they saw that the others had done so. Before anyone could do differently, Ginny walked to the front of the group and led them briskly out of the common room. But she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see the flushed face of her brother.

"I - I'm - I'm sorry," he said.

Ron looked so stricken that consoling words flew immediately to Ginny's lips but then a sudden rush of anger seemed to overtake them. She looked quickly away from Ron and then kept on walking.

"Ginny!" Ron took hold of her shoulder again and swung her around. She became uncomfortably aware that many of their housemates had stopped to watch.

"_What?" _she demanded angrily. "_You've spent the whole year treating me like a refugee from St. Mungo's and you think you can just say you're sorry and that'll be the end of it?"_

There was a significant pause. Ron looked down at his feet for a moment but then up again into his sister's eyes.

"No, but I thought it might be the beginning."

Ginny looked up at her brother and sighed as she felt her anger slowly ebb away.

"Look," she said, touching Ron's shoulder. "This isn't the time. We'll talk later, OK?"

Ron paused for a moment and swallowed. "OK," he finally said.

"Now let's go."

Ginny turned around and led Ron and the others out of the portrait hole. But neither she nor Ron would easily forget their aborted talk. In the weeks and months ahead, both would wonder whether it would turn out to be the last conversation they ever shared.

* * *

A beautifully clear night's sky carpeted the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall but the crowds gathering underneath it reflected nothing of its serenity. With the specter of Umbridge's cruel form of detention hanging over them, their customary assemblies in the Great Hall were normally devoid of even the slightest noise. But as Ginny led her house to the Gryffindor table, they found the hall anything but quiet. Most of the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin tables were nearly full when they arrived and buzzing with conversation. And everyone, including the other Gryffindors who had preceded them to the table, had their wands out and at their sides.

Only one group of witches and wizards remained ghostly silent, nor did they make any attempt to stop the conversations going on around them. The staff sat assembled at the high table, their faces blank and their mouths slightly open. They seemed only capable of looking down at assembled houses as though they had never seen students before. Looking up at the table, Ginny noticed that Umbridge's chair was still vacant.

Ginny quickly took a nervous seat and was flanked on one side by Ron and on the other by Luna and Neville who sat hand in hand. No one suggested that Luna return to the Ravenclaw table. Ignoring the buzz of conversation around her, Ginny quickly scanned the Slytherin table to find that Malfoy was not present. She found this made her far more nervous than relieved.

Ginny felt the sweat gathering on her palms. Umbridge had still not arrived and they continued to sit in place for several minutes that seemed to last a small eternity. Part of her still felt jubilant, relieved, and vindicated but, as time passed, Ginny found she was growing increasingly nervous and unsure as to what awaited them. Ron and Neville stared down at the tables in front of them as Ginny soon found herself doing. Luna kept looking idly around as though determined to uncover a few hidden aliens. Ginny wondered if they were all wracking their brains as she was to try to prepare for whatever Umbridge and Malfoy were planning to throw back at them or whether they were simply overwhelmed by the sheer emotional weight of their returned memories. She looked up at the staff table and was convinced that she found Professor McGonagall staring back down at her with what Ginny assumed was an equally blank stare. Twice she found herself on the point of approaching the table and conspiring with the staff to form a plan of resistance before Umbridge entered the hall and took control but she wasn't sure what they were really thinking and couldn't afford to wait and find out.

Ginny's mind was still stuck in circles when the hall grew suddenly hushed. She looked around quickly to see that all eyes were now focused up at the staff table. Dolores Umbridge had just walked through the side door and was approaching the table from behind as fast as her stubby legs could carry her. Her head was bowed significantly toward the ground, however, as though the only world she wished to be in was her own. So anxious was Umbridge to reach her throne that she stumbled on the way there, and had to make an elaborate pirouette in the air to stop herself from falling completely to the ground. None of the staff reached out a hand to help her, however, and none of the students laughed. By the time Umbridge had reached the center of the table, her height had rendered her once again invisible but for the ever-present bow on the top of her hat. This was still slightly askew from her near fall and gave the impression that the fly was about to tumble down into the toad's mouth.

"I - I - " she began and then cleared her throat. "It is my - my great concern - my great displeasure to announce to you that this school of ours has been attacked by a vicious burst of dark magic. It has - it has _altered_ your memories, made you believe in things that never really happened. It - "

But Umbridge was forced to stop as the hall erupted once again into buzzing conversation.

"Calm yourselves, children, calm yourselves!" Umbridge's hands rose briefly above her head as she appealed to her listeners. "I know this must come as a great shock to you. I know - _silence_, I need silence, please! I know - I know you must seem very confused; I know the memories that have been implanted in your heads seem very real to you but they are very much false - _I must have silence! _HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN WHAT HAPPENS TO THOSE WHO TALK IN _MY _HALL?_"_

But silence did not come. The once unnaturally hushed group of adolescents seemed to be finding their voices in greater and greater numbers. Ginny was heartened to find that the staff, too, seemed to have broken out of their shock and were now muttering to themselves, eyeing Umbridge warily. Though her view was partially blocked by the table, she saw McGonagall nod almost imperceptibly to Professor Sinistra, then reach slowly into the right pocket of her cloak.

"SILENCE!" barked Umbridge. "I must have silence! I must have _order_ in this school! My dear children," she said imploringly, sounding every bit like a queen bee that had been cornered. "Can't you see that this is what our enemies and traitors want? Our confusion! Our division! Can't you see that they're trying to bring an end to our kind, that they want to exterminate us and our way of life, just as they did all throughout our history? _Are we going to let them do that?"_

If Umbridge had hoped to hear a resounding "no" in response, then she was about to be very disappointed. The growing melody of voices only increased in volume until one familiar Irish lilt silenced them all.

"If being a wizard means sitting in this school all day listening to you," declared a red-cheeked Seamus Finnigan, "then, yeah, I _am_ going to let them do it!"

A rush of applause rose up from the Gryffindor table and this time Ginny could not restrain herself from joining in. The Slytherin table attempted to drown out the cheers with a series of boos but this proved unsuccessful as the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws joined in the applause. The bow swung quickly back and forth as Umbridge twisted her head from side to side as though refereeing a Quidditch match. It finally disappeared completely as the hat fell off her head.

"_You_!" she bellowed, pointing a bony finger in the air at Seamus. "_See how the traitors incriminate themselves. In the end, muddied blood cannot_ _hide, can it?_ There_ are your traitors!" _she shrieked, her finger gesticulating wildly all down the Gryffindor table. "_It was they who unleashed the dark magic! I call on the decency of the rest of you! Fall upon them in any manner you choose and your actions will be held up by future generations of wizard-kind! Ignore them and our race will cease to exist!"_

Her heart pounding, Ginny felt Ron and Neville both take hold of her hand. Looking up and down the table, she saw that all of her housemates had joined their hands together. Then Hannah Abbot reached out across the Hufflepuff table and took hold of Parvati Patil's hand. Within less than a minute, a human bond had found its way across the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw tables. The Slytherins did not join in but neither did they appear especially eager to follow Umbridge's instructions.

Ginny looked briefly at Ron and then up again at the table where the loud sound of Umbridge stomping her feet up and down like a child in a temper tantrum could be heard even above the continued buzz of conversation in the hall. Both the staff and the students seemed to be waiting anxiously to see what Umbridge would say next. But then a series of dramatic and very unexpected events took place.

So intent was Ginny on nervously watching Umbridge and the staff table that it was not until Neville tugged on her elbow that she noticed that several house elves, normally unseen and unheard, had now poked their heads and ears to look out onto the hall from just behind the staff table. Considering the height of the table and the way they were teetering nervously, some of them must have been standing on the shoulders of others. No sooner had Ginny taken this in when she noticed that several of the house elves were climbing up two of the parallel stone pillars just behind the staff table. Her eyes widened as the elves kept moving up until the ones behind the table disappeared from sight, apparently to join them. When all was said and done, a good three dozen house elves had climbed up the pillars and a number of them had already reached the ceiling. Staring up into the rafters of the hall, Ginny could just make out something long and white that had been strung between the pillars at the height of the ceiling. The two house elves at the top of the chain were holding onto its edges as though ready to drop it down into the hall.

Ginny quickly scanned back to the students around the hall to see that everyone was now looking up at the house elves along with her. Umbridge, who remained too short to be seen, was apparently unable to keep her eyes away from the mutinous students, however, as her next question revealed.

"Wh - wh - what are you staring up at? What is - "

Umbridge's question was not yet completed when a noise like the closing of a hundred blinds issued from the rafters. In an obviously well-choreographed series of motions, the house elves tumbled an enormous cloth banner down from the rafters, the sides of which were quickly seized and held in place by the elves who remained spread-eagled on the parallel stone pillars. It was more than half the height of the hall and as wide as the staff table across and seemed to have been made from dozens of spare bed sheets tied together. Awkwardly splashed across the front of the tied sheets in large reddish-brown letters that looked like the crushed remains of leftover pies were written the words:

SEEZ HUR

Ginny's attention was quickly returned to the staff table by a great deal of hysterical shouting from their headmistress who had apparently turned around and read the sign.

"BEASTS! VERMIN! UNGRATEFUL ANIMALS!" cried the owner of a pudgy outstretched finger. "Arrest - arrest - arrest them all! Stop them! Bring them down!"

The house elves flinched nervously and held ever more tightly to their precarious pillars as though they feared that the hysterical noise ensuing from Umbridge's mouth would shake the very foundations of the hall. But to their credit, none of them moved or ran away. Neither did any of the students or staff.

"DID YOU NOT HEAR ME?" Umbridge bellowed again, swinging around, her voice now slightly hoarse. "I _ORDERED_ YOU TO REMOVE THEM!"

A deep silence then fell on the hall as though all of its occupants were frozen in thought as well as action. But only a moment passed when the sound of a wand being removed from a cloak seemed to resonate sharply.

"You all read the sign," cried Professor McGonagall, taking aim at the diminutive figure next to her. "_Seize her!"_

A split-second later, every one of the teachers had a wand raised in their hands and a half dozen hexes screamed through the air to the spot where Umbridge was standing. But none of them connected. A long red beam of light had reached clear across the hall and arrived at the headmistress first, sending her high into the air. Shouts of confusion rang out as the hexes missed their target and continued on to hit the other teachers, many of whom fell to the floor while Umbridge herself remained untouched. Ginny swung her head quickly around to find that Draco Malfoy now stood just inside the entrance to the hall. It was his wand that held Umbridge protectively above the table. His face was fixed in a fury as red as its beam.

Ginny was not at all sure what to expect next but what happened was the least of anything she could have imagined. While the rest of the hall including herself remained frozen, a fourth-year Slytherin girl stood on top of her chair and aimed her wand at Malfoy. She was probably no more than a dozen feet away from Malfoy but he hadn't seemed to notice her. Ginny didn't really know the girl well and she had spent very little of her time at Hogwarts considering that Slytherins were anything but Death Eaters in the making. Yet Ginny continued to watch spellbound as the girl launched a disarming spell at Malfoy. The hex hit home just below his shoulder. Malfoy flinched only momentarily but it was enough for his charm to lose its grip on Umbridge who tumbled to the ground with a cry. Sounds of rapid movement and shouting suggested that her pursuers were still trying to get hold of her. Ginny did not know for sure, though, because she found it impossible to remove her eyes from Malfoy and the girl.

Malfoy clutched his shoulder for a brief moment before turning in the direction of his attacker, a feral anger written across his face. Ginny wanted to cry out to the girl to run or hide but she continued to stand on top of her chair with her wand outstretched as though she were a match for the young Death Eater. His face still set in fury, Malfoy raised his wand at the girl. Malfoy mumbled something Ginny couldn't hear and a bright green light shot out from his wand. The girl tried to turn away but the curse moved too fast. She slumped back into her chair and lay crumpled in a heap, her lifeless eyes still staring back at her murderer.

"NOOOOOOOO!" cried Ginny. Without pausing to think, she stood up on top of the Gryffindor table, raised her own wand and let off a cacophony of ill-formed hexes across the hall in Malfoy's direction. Both her curses and her words were drowned out, however, in a sea of like-minded retaliations, some of them from Malfoy's own housemates. There must have been dozens of curses sent Malfoy's way but he seemed to block or absorb them all with no apparent harm to himself.

"How could he - " Neville started but Ginny did not get to hear the end of the sentence. She found herself pulled hard to the floor by Ron as a hex from across the room sizzled over their heads. She looked up to see a good dozen Slytherins standing on top of their house table, volleying shots in the direction of the other three houses who retaliated in kind. Seamus and Jack Sloper quickly overturned the Gryffindor table in front of them to form a makeshift bunker. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students mostly retreated to either side of their house tables, clearing a path for the Gryffindor shooters. Many of them continued to strike away at the Slytherins from there.

The room, which only moments before had been thick with the tension of an oncoming storm, now sizzled with the electricity of violence. Flashes of wand light in a rainbow of colors - red, blue, yellow - flew across the room to the Slytherin side only to return in equal measure and sometimes in green. The hall was filled with screams of agony and fear. Malfoy moved toward the back center of the hall, shooting down several Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and forcing the others to retreat. From there he joined his fellow Slytherins in launching hexes at the nearby Gryffindor table. Ginny watched as a small first-year Ravenclaw boy tried to run behind the Slytherin table and out toward the exit only to be hit on the leg by an errant hex. He lay exposed right across Malfoy, whose face curled in a malicious sneer as he prepared to deliver a killing blow. Just as he was about to strike, however, the Slytherin Quidditch captain Hall ran out from behind his own table and with one disbelieving look at his Seeker, swept the boy up into his arms and carried him back out of the door of the hall to safety, narrowly dodging the hexes Malfoy threw toward his retreating back.

"Get these - get all of these children out of here!" Ginny heard McGonagall cry above the fray. She looked up briefly from a heated exchange of fire to see that the teachers were still in complete disarray. Professor Flitwick was rolling around the floor in pain after having been struck with a hex aimed for Umbridge by Professor Harmon. Harmon himself huddled with Professor Sinistra behind one half of the table which had now been split clear in two. McGonagall was crouched behind a fallen chair. She looked as though she was trying desperately to get to the students, but she could barely manage to defend herself against a storm of hexes that flew at her from the Slytherin table.

The Slytherin table itself seemed in the midst of a civil war. The other students had succeeded in forcing them behind their table which they overturned into a bunker just as the Gryffindors had done. About twenty students - mostly sixth and seventh years - were now dug in behind the bunker, shooting at anything else that moved in the hall. The rest seemed to be trying to sabotage their efforts but they were often the first to be ruthlessly struck down. Many had tried to flee to the other tables. Some were hit; several had reached the Gryffindor table and joined in defending their bitter house rivals. Not a single Gryffindor had the time or inclination to question their loyalties. Many of the younger Slytherins were huddled in the upper corner of the hall near the staff table but still separated from it by the exchange of fire coming from their own housemates. They were joined by a number of young Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, their hands over their heads, hoping that the horrible battle raging all around them would somehow go away. And all this time Malfoy stood at the hall's far end weaving his wand back and forth like a maestro of chaos.

With Ron crouched beside her, Ginny continued to fire hex after hex toward the Slytherin table. She felt a rush of satisfaction as she successfully landed a stunning spell on McShane who fell back against the wall behind him. But no sooner had she done this when she heard screaming just to her right. She snapped her head around just as three unforgivable curses whizzed over the top of Luna's head and slammed into the wall behind her sending shards of plaster and stone all over them.

"She's the one!" she heard one of their attackers cry out. "She's the one who released the Mudblood memories on us!"

Luna screamed as part of the barricade under which she was hiding collapsed and her wand flew out of her hand and rolled out and under the Hufflepuff table. As Neville, Ginny, and Ron furiously threw hexes back at their attackers, Luna made a quick break for her wand.

"No, Luna!" Neville cried out. "You'll be - "

But it was too late. Luna grabbed her wand but as she tried to crawl back, a Death Eater struck her on the back with a nasty stunning spell. She rolled over, her eyes moving about wildly. Spittle rolled out of the corner of her mouth as though she was having a seizure.

"Neville, no!" cried Ginny as he got up beside her and ran over to where Luna was laying helplessly on the ground. But Neville ignored her. A hex clipping past his right ear, he made it over to Luna and smothered her under his cloak while still furiously launching defensive spells at the on-rushing Death Eaters. After several seconds of lightning-fast wand fire, Ron and Ginny had stunned two of them and the last had retreated back behind the Slytherin bunker. As soon as he had left, Ginny made her way over to Luna and Neville but Ron quickly seized her arm and pulled her down to the stone ground.

"Look out!" he cried.

Ginny didn't see what happened next. All she heard was another round of furious wand fire at close quarters. Finally, Ron released his grip and she got up to see him launching hexes up the fireplace behind them. She was shocked to see stunned bodies piling up in the fireplace, bodies of fully grown Death Eaters. Several large thumping sounds told her that more were trying to come down and had landed on top of their fellows when they couldn't get out. Ron quickly took a large handful of floo powder in his hand and threw it into the fire which enveloped the Death Eaters - both conscious and unconscious - in a bright green light. He hesitated for a moment, then cried out:

"Slytherin common room!"

Without pausing to see whether the floo had done its trick, he launched himself quickly back into the fray, volleying several stunning spells in the direction of the Slytherins, most of whom had seemed to retreat behind their fireplace.

"How did they get in here?" he asked, dodging a hex. "No one can Apparate into Hogwarts. I remember that now!"

"They were already here," said Ginny, suddenly realizing. "With Umbridge in control, they could have walked in through the front door. Oh goddess, look!"

Ginny pointed ahead to the fireplace behind the Slytherin table where more Death Eaters had now appeared to provide reinforcements to their student trainees. Before either Ron or Ginny could shout out a warning, one of them had launched a ruthless Killing Curse into the back of a confederate Slytherin who had been firing on his own Death Eater housemates. Ginny did not pause to feel anger or remorse this time. She ran straight forward to Neville and Luna who were still exposed just in front of the Hufflepuff table.

"Ginny!" cried Ron.

"Help me!" she shouted back anxiously.

Ron fired another quick hex toward the Slytherin side and then ran over to help Ginny push the Hufflepuff table up on its end to form a new bunker, pausing only a moment to shift an injured student to one side.

"Is she OK?" Ginny cried out to Neville, who righted himself and cradled Luna carefully in his arms behind their defense.

"I don't think so," replied Neville, white-faced, "not unless we can get her some help very fast."

Ginny looked down and was shocked to find that horrible purple blotches had appeared all over Luna's face. Some of them seemed to have burst emitting a nasty-looking sticky pus. Luna herself still seemed somewhat delirious. Her eyes were moving around in circles; she was murmuring incoherently but she was clearly unaware of what was going on. Ginny decided this might be just as well.

Looking back toward the Slytherin table, Ginny saw that three or four adult Death Eaters had emerged from the fireplace with apparently much better success than their counterparts on the Gryffindor side. Several of the older Ravenclaws had moved almost on top of the Slytherin defenses before they arrived. But as soon as the experienced Death Eaters joined in and began firing unforgivable curses indiscriminately, they beat a hasty retreat. At least one of them wasn't fortunate enough to make it back to his table.

Malfoy still seemed completely unscathed and continued to fire at the Ravenclaw table which was just in front of where he now stood. The left half of the table had exploded into rubble on top of several Ravenclaws who were either unconscious or doing a very good job of pretending to be. Ginny looked briefly across at the staff table to see that the teachers still seemed hemmed in; about half were now on the ground. Ginny didn't know if they were unconscious or dead and didn't want to think about it. She turned her attention back to trying to out-hex their resurgent opponents when a voice rang out behind her:

"I'll show them muddied blood!"

"Seamus, no!" Ron cried.

Ginny looked back at the last minute to see Seamus grabbing a handful of floo. He cried out: "Slytherin Table!" before disappearing into the fire. Both Ron and Ginny swung their heads to the other side of the room to see Seamus emerge through the fireplace. He felled several of the larger Death Eaters who were caught completely unawares before one of the student Death Eaters caught him with a hex on his right hip. He grabbed his side in pain and fell to the floor. The remaining adult Death Eater raised his hand, apparently poised for the kill, but a bright red stunning spell from the wand of Professor McGonagall, who had moved dangerously out in front of the staff table, felled his would-be assailant.

Seamus continued to lie dangerously exposed on the floor behind the Slytherin bunker, however, and this seemed to spur both sides into more insistent fire. Malfoy himself sprinted back in the direction of his own table and fired several hexes at Seamus but succeeded only in shooting down one of his own side. The battle raged on but it was clear that Seamus had scored an important victory. There were only four or five student Death Eaters left. Professor Flitwick hobbled to his feet and began firing at them with McGonagall as though the Defense Against the Dark Arts job should have belonged to him all along. Many of the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and loyal Slytherins had moved out into the open and were taking clean shots at their remaining opponents. Several Ravenclaws had jumped over the Slytherin bunker at its center and began taking out the remaining Death Eaters. Ginny joined their fire from her position behind the Hufflepuff table but at the last minute, something made her look to her left and make eye contact with Malfoy.

For a moment, the Slytherin continued to fire into the on-rushing crowds of students but then he stopped and looked over to see that his fellow Death Eaters were now separated from him by their broken defenses in the middle. His brow creased in consternation as he watched them close into a tighter and tighter circle. He turned around to look at Ginny far across the room almost as if he knew she would be looking in his direction. Then he raised his eyebrows once and disappeared out of the main door behind him.

"Malfoy!" Ginny cried. Shooting a few quick hexes to cover her path, she tore behind Ron and ran out toward the far end of the hall, stopping and nearly falling over when her brother grabbed onto her cloak.

"Let me go!" she screamed at him.

"No!" Ron shouted back as a hex hurtled between them and exploded into the wall behind.

Both brother and sister fired back across at the Slytherins at the same time that Ginny tried to remove her cloak and Ron held onto it tenuously.

"Don't try to stop me, Ron!" Ginny cried out, her face almost bleeding with fury. "I'm going after Malfoy! I have a score to settle!"

"Ginny, no, can't you see that's what he wants you to do? He'll lead you into a - "

But Ron did not get the chance to finish his sentence. With the angry cry of a tigress, Ginny yanked her cloak back and sprinted down to the back of the hall and then dangerously out toward the Slytherin table and the main door. All Ron could do was down a Death Eater who had been aiming at her exposed back and watch as his sister disappeared quickly out of the hall.

Ron kicked over a chair in frustration and continued firing shots over to the Slytherin side. He tried to run after his sister but the remaining Death Eaters had stunned several of their on-rushing attackers and proved far more resilient than he had hoped. Finally, they managed to stun them all but only after several precious minutes had passed.

An odd silence suddenly descended on the hall. The students who remained standing looked around at each other, looking uncertain as to whether any of the others would start to attack, the remaining Slytherins especially. They were still staring at one another, half in suspicion and half in disbelief when McGonagall bounded into the center of the room and stood up on the upper half of the Ravenclaw table, the only piece of furniture in the hall still left standing.

"_Sonorus. _All unharmed students fifth year and above will please join me. Professor Grubbly-Plank! Professor Sprout! I want you to take all injured students and all those fourth year and below, whether injured or not, to St. Mungo's immediately. You'll find an emergency portkey under the portrait in the antechamber off the front of the hall."

McGonagall had barely finished when as cacophony of cries, moans, and protests resounded around them. Most of the moans came from the injured. Several students wanted to stay with their friends but there was little time to lose. With the help of many of the older students, Grubbly-Plank and Sprout urgently carried the wounded back to the portkey. One voice, however, continued to cry out.

"Professor!" shouted Neville. "Professor, please!"

Ron ran quickly over to find Neville still holding Luna in his arms. Her face was now covered in crusty boils and nearly unrecognizable. Thankfully she still seemed unconscious, although Ron was very worried to see that she was no longer moving. Neville was completely beside himself. Tears running down his cheeks, he kept trying to revive her which Ron was not at all sure was a good idea. They were shortly joined by McGonagall who rushed over with surprising agility and studied Luna with concern.

"She'll never make it as far as St. Mungo's!" said Neville pleadingly.

McGonagall gave a curt nod in reply. "Weasley, Longbottom, get her into the fireplace and floo her to Madam Pomfrey. Then come back immediately. We need you!"

Ron carefully took hold of Luna's shoulders. Neville seemed in a momentary daze before taking hold of her feet. They quickly carried Luna into the fireplace and McGonagall threw a handful of floo inside.

"_Hospital Wing!" _she cried.

The chaotic scene in the Great Hall became shrouded in emerald smoke, then disappeared from Ron's eyes.

* * *

The corridors were eerily silent compared to the noisy cries of battle in the Great Hall. Ginny had trotted at first but then she realized that it was far more difficult than she had thought to pick up Malfoy's trail. He had gotten a significant head start on her no thanks to the over-protective chauvinism of her brother. As Ginny walked deeper down the corridors of the ground floor, however, she began to fear that Ron might be right. There seemed little hope of finding Malfoy and she might be walking into a trap. What was more, the battle in the Great Hall was far from over and her help was greatly needed there. She could see the door to the courtyard on her right and knew she wasn't far from the far end of the school. She was on the point of returning when she reminded herself that so much of the suffering in the Great Hall, not to mention the Memory Charms and the disappearing Muggles, had been caused by Malfoy himself. If he remained at large, then they could never be safe. Many more were going to end up like that girl.

Ginny felt a renewed surge of anger at the thought of her lifeless staring eyes. She clutched her wand firmly and turned to continue down the corridor.

Yet even as Ginny knew how important it was for her to find Malfoy, she scarcely knew where to begin. Perhaps she should try to make for the Room of Requirement. Hadn't Sirius said it was his main hideout? Or perhaps he had returned to the Slytherin common room?

No, both of these were far too obvious, Ginny realized. Malfoy could be anywhere in the castle by now and it was chillingly obvious from his performance in the Great Hall that the Death Eaters had trained him with a set of defensive skills which rivaled - if not surpassed - Harry's. If only -

Ginny stopped in her tracks again. Of course, the Marauder's Map! Why hadn't she thought of it before? The map wouldn't lie. That meant she had to return to Gryffindor Tower to retrieve it and she was now on the far end of the school, both in length and height. Nonetheless, it seemed her best choice. Her lips set in firm determination, she turned around to walk back again.

And then stopped for a third time.

It all happened very fast. There was a loud clatter just behind her. Ginny swung around and launched a quick volley of hexes. They just missed an unmistakable shock of a blonde hair before it disappeared around the corner of the corridor across from the courtyard door at a sprint.

"MALFOY!" Ginny shouted. She tore off toward the corner around which Malfoy had fled, her wand out in front of her like a gladiator's sword.

Ron flooed back into the Great Hall, a shaken Neville at his side. They had found Madam Pomfrey, who, it seemed, had had no intention of obeying Umbridge's request to assemble in the Great Hall. "I thought it was quite likely I would be needed here," she had told them. On seeing Luna, she had moved quickly into action. She had told a shivering Neville that Luna wasn't beyond hope but that she had been hit with a very nasty hex and that she couldn't make any promises. Following closely after Neville and Ron had been numerous other cases requiring urgent medical attention. Madam Pomfrey had darted around to each of them with superhuman speed. It looked very much like she needed help and both Ron and Neville had said so but Madam Pomfrey curtly shooed them away. Ron had led a reluctant Neville back to the Great Hall by floo.

Now that they had arrived back, things seemed almost more chaotic than when they had left. McGonagall had managed to gather all of the older students and many of the teachers but she was having difficulty calming everyone down. Ron was relieved to see Seamus among them although he seemed to be clutching his side and periodically wincing in pain. Many of the girls were crying and from looking around the hall, Ron could see that there were four or five students - most of them Slytherins - who had been beyond hope of taking to St. Mungo's. They deserved to be removed with dignity but Ron knew there wasn't time for that now. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Professor Harmon bending over Professor Sinistra, his head buried in his arms. It was obvious that there was nothing that could be done for her either.

Neville and Ron quickly joined the circle surrounding McGonagall, their voices adding to the protesting cacophony.

"I want to go back and stay with Luna!" Neville cried. "Madam Pomfrey can't do it all on her own!"

"What about Ginny?" Ron protested. "She tore off after Malfoy! I know he's led her into a trap!"

McGonagall's head darted around to all of the student appeals surrounding her, some to go on to St. Mungo's to look after their fallen comrades, others to be the first in pursuit of Umbridge, who had apparently escaped via floo early on in the battle. Others wanted to storm the Slytherin common room where they were certain the rest of the Death Eaters were hiding. Finally, McGonagall raised her wand in the air and succeeded in letting off an ear-splitting bang.

"_Silence_!" she roared. "_We will accomplish nothing if we carry on like this!"_

And silence quickly followed.

"Right," she added quickly. "Mr. Longbottom: if you want to help Miss Lovegood, the best thing you can do is help to stop those who injured her. I know from long experience that Madam Pomfrey can work wonders when no one harasses her and can do very little when they get in her way."

Neville looked about to protest again for a moment but then nodded reluctantly.

"Mr. Weasley," she added in a business-like manner, "you and Mr. Longbottom will go to look for Miss Weasley. Mr. Finnigan, do you feel up to joining them?"

Seamus quickly took his hand away from his side and straightened his back.

"Yes, Professor."

"Good. Mr. - _wait!" _she cried as Ron made to leave quickly, wand in hand. "I have not finished all of my instructions, Mr. Weasley. You're not going to help anyone by going off half-dressed for battle."

"What? But I - "

"Mr. Sloper, Miss Patil, Mr. Smith, and Mr. Hall, you will proceed cautiously to the Slytherin common room where you will find a number of stunned Death Eaters, courtesy of Mr. Weasley. Make sure that they remain that way. Professor Flitwick, do you feel up to joining them?"

Flitwick, who looked as though he was still limping, nonetheless nodded enthusiastically.

"Miss Abbot, Professor Trelawney, and Professor Harmon," McGonagall went on, "you will come with me - Pro - Professor Harmon?"

McGonagall swung her head around to find Harmon still bent over Sinistra. She swiftly but gracefully moved over to his side, knelt down, and touched his back.

"Counselo?" she said very gently. "Counselo, I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do for her now. We need to capture the ones who did this to her and prevent them from hurting anyone else."

Harmon hesitated for a moment but then got to his feet along with McGonagall. He looked back at her with an expression that seemed a horrible cross between bewilderment and sadness.

"I'm sorry, Minerva," he said after a pause. "You're right, of course. It's - well, it's all a bit of a shock. I remember we were friends for years but, of course, that's all a lie really, isn't it? I'm not really a Hogwarts teacher at all, am I?" Harmon looked back at McGonagall almost like a child hoping to discover that his fears were all make-believe.

McGonagall put a hand on his shoulder in response and regarded him with an expression that brooked no contradiction.

"Professor Harmon, whatever has or has not really happened, you are and will always be a Hogwarts teacher. Now, I need your help. Miss Abbot, Professor Trelawney, you, and I will go after Umbridge. I've an idea she might be hiding in her office because she thinks we won't be able to enter. She won't find it that simple, however," McGonagall added, her lips curling up in a hint of a smile. "The rest of you will stay here and keep guard. And as soon as we've flooed up to the headmaster's office, I want these fireplaces destroyed. I don't want any more uninvited guests dropping in. _All of you be on the alert! _We don't know how many of them there still might be or where they might be hiding. Understood?" McGonagall was met by a chorus of nods. "Good, now let's get on with it."

Ginny emerged around the corner of the hallway, her wand out first and firing blindly. As the rest of her body followed, she found that Malfoy was nowhere to seen. She stopped quickly and tried to listen over the pounding of her heart to what the clattering of her feet had obscured: Malfoy's own footsteps. It sounded like he must have already reached the other hallway around the next corner, though Ginny was amazed at how much ground he had covered in such a short time. She moved forward again but this time at a cautious trot rather than full speed. She was fairly sure there was nothing around that corridor but a dead end that led to a large window which overlooked the mountains behind the rear of the castle. She had him trapped and she knew that once cornered, he would be that much more dangerous to catch.

Ginny slowed as she reached the next turning. She had heard no crash of glass. She knew that Malfoy would be standing in the alcove waiting for her. She pressed herself against the stone wall at the end of the hallway and quickly peered around the corner.

But there seemed to be no one there. The rising moon just behind the window revealed every hidden corner of the alcove and none seemed to be hiding anything, let alone a person of Malfoy's stature. Carefully walking around the corner to look properly into the alcove, Ginny could see that if appearances were to be trusted, her quandary had vanished. Ginny's eyes darted quickly around the alcove to spot anything she had missed: there were no fireplaces so he couldn't have gone out by floo. Ginny clearly heard him rounding the corridor; there was no way he could have entered any of the empty classrooms she had just passed. She was fairly sure that even Malfoy couldn't Disapparate out of Hogwarts. A Disillusionment charm, perhaps? Ginny watched the walls in front of her carefully to see whether any of them moved. She was about to turn around and walk back down the corridor she had just come when her eyes rested on a small, ancient-looking wooden door just to the right of the window, slightly obscured in the shadows.

It seemed the only possibility really, though Ginny was certain that it didn't lead anywhere. It was small but not so small that it couldn't have admitted Malfoy if he had bent over. She crept toward the door and tried it only to find it was still ajar. Her heart accelerating quickly, Ginny pushed it open further and stuck her wand out into the open space. A winding staircase led up in front of her. The steps disappeared quickly around the corner but Ginny could still see the light from the moon behind them which meant that they couldn't go far.

Ginny hesitated for a moment, then slowly planted her right foot forward onto the steps as noiselessly as she could. She followed the staircase around to find that it quickly ended in what seemed to be a deserted classroom full of old Potions equipment. There were no lanterns in the room but it was fairly easy to see from the moonlight that shone through several windows stretching out across its horizontal length. Ginny considered adding her own wand light but then decided against it: she had been quiet so far and she did not want to alert Malfoy. She knew he must be in the room; there was no other place he could have gone.

Ginny stopped just inside the room and scanned the shadows carefully. When she could see no one, she crept forward very cautiously, wincing as her foot made contact with a creaky floorboard. She had no time to gasp when a large swooping noise rose suddenly up from behind her. She turned around to see Malfoy literally dropping from the ceiling like a bat, his long cloak pulled around him. A hex formed in her throat but her opponent was much, much quicker:

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Ginny felt her wand fly out of her hand and heard it connect against the far wall and roll to the floor. She was flung back as though pushed by a troll and landed hard on the floor against one of the classroom tables. Through a veil of stinging pain that smarted her eyes, she looked back up to see Malfoy standing in front of the door she had just entered, wand in hand and ghostly moonlight casting hideous shadows over his pale face.

"Hello, Ginny," he said.


	15. The Apotheosis of Draco Malfoy

**Chapter 15**

**The Apotheosis of Draco Malfoy**

McGonagall, Harmon, Trelawney, and Hannah Abbot emerged cautiously from the staircase to the second floor. As soon as the others had left the Great Hall, they had tried to floo to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and walk from there to the entrance to Umbridge's office, but after several tries they found they could only remain in the Hall. This confirmed McGonagall's suspicion that the Death Eaters were still active in the castle and that they had now found a way to disable the floo network. She also knew that the Death Eaters had probably laid traps for them all throughout the castle, whose corridors and stairways they were now forced to walk. She had led her charges carefully up the stairs only to find them completely deserted. Once they had reached the corridor containing the stone gargoyle and it was obvious that no one was lying in wait, she quickened her pace and led the others briskly to the entrance.

"Now we'll see if our charlatan headmistress has managed to block off all - "

McGonagall was cut off as the gargoyle moved unexpectedly to one side. She and the others clutched their wands tightly, anticipating a feisty Umbridge, or worse a gang of Death Eaters, to emerge. They did not expect to find half a dozen house-elves jumping up and down all over the spiral staircase. At the sight of the elves, McGonagall could not resist her first smile in a very long time.

"Miss Professor, sir," said the one in front, hopping up and down excitedly on his nimble feet. "We is finding the headmistress traitor. She is thinking to escaping through her office but we is waiting there for her!"

At this, the other house-elves began jumping up and down in imitation of their spokesperson unable to contain their glee. McGonagall felt very much like jumping up and down with them; instead, she led the others up the spiral staircase and into the office, keeping her wand cautiously out ahead of her. Even before they had entered the open door at the top, they could hear a familiar and very satisfying series of anxious and protesting cries coming from the inside.

Once entering, they found Dolores Umbridge tied haphazardly to a chair against one of the office walls with what appeared to be super-strength spaghetti. Several house-elves surrounded her chair. One had succeeded in taking off one of her earrings and was studying it curiously. Others surrounded her desk amongst the remains of her beloved kitten plates. Umbridge could do nothing but sit and moan as a house-elf sat on top of her now hatless head and tried to tie her hair into an elaborate series of knots.

"Horrid little beasts! Insolent creatures! Get them off me, get them _all off me_!" she moaned. "Minerva!" she cried, her eyes widening as her once deputy headmistress walked over. "I entreat upon you! Is this the kind of school you fantasize about? Allowing these barbarous, these filthy - " Umbridge broke off and winced as the house elf finished her final knot and jumped about excitedly on the headmistress's head, admiring her handiwork. " - these half-breed _things_ to run about like this with abandon?"

McGonagall did not respond. She continued to look down at Umbridge, an almost demented-looking smile on her face, as though this was the sweetest moment of her life.

"I think it's time for me to ask the questions now, _Professor _Umbridge," she said, pointing her wand at Umbridge's chest. "If you cooperate, I might ask the house-elves to leave you alone. Now, tell me: what have you done with Dumbledore?"

"I'm so delighted you could join me here, Ginny, but I'm amazed at how easily you walked into my trap. You Gryffindors really are the most naïve creatures imaginable."

The pain in her spine was excruciating but Ginny forced herself to her feet.

"You could sit down, you know," drawled Malfoy, sounding just for a moment like his old lazy self. "Why do you always have to struggle so much, Ginny? What is it you're trying to prove?"

Ginny felt her face boil in anger as she stared back at Malfoy.

"Tell me, _Draco_, when did you first start to become a _murderer_?"

Malfoy's face hardened for a moment then broke out into a smile. "I shouldn't worry, Ginny. Didn't Dumbledore and the werewolf tell you? You spent long enough in his office that night: no one _really _dies. But if their deaths still bother you so much then you've only yourself to blame, I'm afraid. Their blood is on _your_ hands, not mine. If you had just let things be as I told you so many times to do, if you and your loony friend hadn't persisted in looking for the trapped memories, then I would never have resorted to taking the school by force. I only wanted everyone to live happily in their own worlds. But you couldn't be content with that, could you?"

"I couldn't be content without Harry, no."

Malfoy sighed. "Can Harry do what I've done?"

"What?"

"Oh, Ginny, don't you understand? Didn't you ever wonder how it was that _you_ remembered while no one else did?" Malfoy's face hardened. "You probably thought you had some special power over me but let me tell you, Ginny Weasley, that if I had wished it, you would not have remembered the first thing about the mudbloods the day after they first disappeared. You would have been just as ignorant as Potter and the rest. I _let _you remember because I wanted you to see the power and glory of the world that is to come for all true witches and wizards everywhere, the redemption from death itself, a destiny no mudblood or half-blood could ever begin to imagine. And even after being given the privilege to witness that power, you would still deny it?"

"I deny everything you work for, Malfoy, and I'll do everything in my power to stop you even if I die trying!"

"Oh, yes, the famous Gryffindor bravery. But why die for Potter if you'll never see him again, anyway? It won't mean anything to him. He doesn't remember you anymore. Do you want to know where he is right now, Ginny?"

There was no response.

"I'm sure you do. I must admit that before I started placing these memory charms, I thought Gryffindors didn't experience fear. It was only after I began seeing into your dreams that I knew you fear even more than the rest of us; you just keep it all inside like a horrible potion trapped in a vial. I could see your thoughts when I placed the charms, you know - not all your thoughts, of course, and not all your dreams, or else I would have been able to stop you and your friends before you destroyed my magnificent work. But I could see your nightmares. I could see your fear. Do you what Potter dreams about nearly every night? You would think he might fear the Dark Lord's return, especially with all those ridiculous prophecies that old cow has cooked up - and, yes, I do know about them all now, Ginny. But no, he still worries that he's going to be expelled from Hogwarts! Can you imagine that, Ginny? Dumbledore's wonder boy _expelled_? And he really believed it could happen! He feared going to some horrid little Muggle school that his mudblood relatives say he goes to. Well, do you know what I did, Ginny? I put him and all the other mudbloods in that school or one in my little universe that looks very much like it. He's trapped in his own fears; fitting, don't you think, since he wouldn't confront them on his own?"

Ginny felt anger and rage burn all over her body like an all-consuming fire. She didn't want to answer Malfoy's question; she had nothing to say. She wanted to rush at him, hit him, claw his very insides out until he begged her for mercy. Only by great force of will did she restrain herself and only for one reason: she had not forgotten that Malfoy had a wand and she didn't. But she was not going to gratify him with a response.

Malfoy took a step closer to her. "I expect he never told you about his nightmares, did he, Ginny? Odd, I thought the two of you were so close."

"If you try to make me doubt Harry, I'll only love him even more, and I'll make you very much regret every word you've said," Ginny managed to reply through gritted teeth.

"I admit I don't understand much about love but it is a pity. You see, Ginny, I confess I wanted you to remember and understand my power because I've developed an infatuation for you. If you were to join me, I think I could be even stronger. Together, we could begin a new master race of powerful, worthy wizards and witches who wouldn't have to hide and run from Muggles and Muggle-loving fools. It's a shame you would give it all up for a coddled little half-blood who doesn't deserve you. But I still have high hopes that you'll come around in the end."

"I'd rather make love to a toad than go anywhere near you, Malfoy!" Ginny hissed back. "I'd rather snog You-Know-Who!"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? I'd be careful what you wish for, Ginny. You know, what saddens me most is how little you appreciate all I've done for you this year. Who was it who stopped that Bludger from hitting you on the Quidditch pitch? It might have killed you, you know, or at the very least made you something Potter wouldn't have wanted to go anywhere near snogging. And who was it who stopped Dolores Umbridge from carving up your hand in one of her sadistic pleas for attention?"

Ginny did not reply again.

"You doubt me, Ginny? It played havoc with my plans, you know. Everything had been clean before that; everything in its proper place. But that fool of a Quidditch teacher - I've already forgotten her name now - Madam Pooch, was it? She certainly had a face like one. Anyway, she had the stupidity to confront me after the match; I suppose she must have been in Gryffindor, too. She'd seen it all on the slow-motion replay from her Omnioculars and she wanted to know why I'd interfered with the game. Can you imagine that, Ginny? She never questioned how it was I could fire a charm clear across the stadium at faster than the speed of sight. All she cared about was that I had interfered. But I couldn't let it go at that, of course. Some small spark of insight might have eventually found its way into her provincial mind. I hadn't prepared a banishment charm; I had to kill her then and there. Fortunately, Wormtail managed to dispose of the body and deal with the memory charms. It was one of the few things he did right. And then there was Dolores. You were terribly evil to try her patience so, Ginny, and I had to teach her one or two lessons before she can learn some self-restraint with you. In her own narrow way, she thought you were the biggest threat to our plans, all because you remembered. But she is narrow and petty; she does not understand."

"I think she understands a great deal more than you do, Malfoy! We've destroyed your memory charm and you've lost the battle to take over this school!"

"Is that what you think, Ginny?" Malfoy cooed.

"Yeah, it is. Or did you go running out of the Hall for some other reason?"

"I went running out of the Hall because I knew you would follow me, Ginny. Did you really think I would send all of my Death Eaters into one place? They've been in this school for weeks, Ginny, ever since you and Lovegood started your first little experiment. And they've been training and hiding. And just about now, they're going to ambush your brother and the rest of his Gryffindor friends. I know they'll go looking for you, Ginny, and do you know the first place they're going to check?"

"I suppose _you_ do."

"I do. They're going to go back to Gryffindor Tower to find you on that stupid map of yours."

Ginny felt her throat run dry.

"Oh, yes, Ginny, I know about that, too. Wormtail has not been in all things so completely unobservant. I'm afraid that while I wish to keep you alive, I have no love loss for your brother. I'd be surprised if he wasn't already dead. How does that set upon your conscience, Ginny?"

"Are you sure you're all right, Seamus?" asked Ron, as he, Seamus, and Neville left the Great Hall.

"Yeah, I told you, didn't I?" replied Seamus, a little defensively, but Ron still caught him wincing.

"All right, mate; I just wanted to make sure." Ron rounded up the staircase next to the hall.

"Do you really think they'd have gone that way?" asked Neville.

"We're going back up to Gryffindor Tower!" replied Ron. "She'll been on the Marauder's Map."

"The what?" asked Seamus, struggling to keep up with Ron who was racing ahead.

"It's a kind of magical map; it tells you where everyone is in the castle!" panted Ron.

"Steady on," said Neville, who seemed the most out of breath of the three. "Hadn't we better be careful? There could be others of them hiding about somewhere."

"Yeah, maybe," Ron shouted back. "But the longer we wait, the more likely it is that Malfoy's going to do something very nasty to my sister." Ron added a few mumbling complaints about Ginny that neither Neville nor Seamus could catch.

They seemed to run on relentlessly. The castle was eerily silent and the lanterns blazing through the corridors did not seem to penetrate far enough into the shadows. It would have been easy for anyone to hide there. At first, Seamus tried to peer into the darkened spaces ahead of them, but Ron's pace made that far too difficult and it was very obvious that he wasn't going to hear anything of slowing down. It wasn't long before Seamus' injury started to flare up again. Before long the pain in his side made it too difficult to think or look around with any effectiveness. Finally, they reached the top of the staircase to Gryffindor Tower. It was all Seamus could do not to collapse in front of the Fat Lady. Neville, too, seemed exhausted and was panting for air. Ron, however, walked quickly over to the Fat Lady. He had made it halfway between the staircase and the portrait when Neville's voice called out between pants:

"I don't remember that Statue of old Godric being so close to the portrait before. It's usually off on the side."

"Yeah, well, we can worry - "

Ron suddenly froze.

"Oh, Merlin - GET BACK!"

Ron took two gangly steps back toward the staircase and then dived through the air to land on a slowly retreating Seamus and Neville just as three vicious green hexes erupted from behind the statue. His two roommates still in a heap underneath him, Ron quickly whirled around and fired back at the statue from a crouching position. The statue seemed to both explode and implode at the same time, causing the likeness of Godric Gryffindor to come crashing hard to the floor, a triumphant beam still fixed on its face. Behind it were three masked Death Eaters who came out firing hard to the staircase down which the three Gryffindors had retreated. Ron kept firing up and after a brief moment, he was relieved to find Seamus and Neville doing the same. Two of the Death Eaters fell and the third was forced back behind a stone pillar but new hexes streamed at them from the sides. Another four Death Eaters were coming at them from down the corridors that fanned out from either side of the stone staircase. Ron tried to fire in all directions but they were outmatched and surrounded. A horrible cry pierced the air next to him. Ron quickly swung his head back to find Neville clutching his knee and screaming in agony. Neville's wand dropped to the ground and rolled down the staircase. Another Death Eater hex vaporized it.

Neville kept screaming in pain. Ron tried hard to ignore him as he fired in all directions as fast as he could. One of his hexes hit home but most missed wildly. For a few moments, Seamus joined the battle by his side, adrenalin overcoming the limits of his body's tolerance of pain and fatigue. But then came the ominous sound of several sets of footsteps running up the staircase behind them. They were surrounded on all sides.

Without stopping to find out whether their pursuers were friends or foe, Seamus darted down two steps and fired back down the staircase. There were one or two satisfying screams but several hexes volleyed into the staircase banister just to the left of Ron's head. He knew that with four Death Eaters still to contend with single handedly, he didn't have the luxury of turning around and helping Seamus. He could only hope that his injured and over-matched friend could work the impossible.

"It's just four," Ron mumbled to himself through gritted teeth. "One - two - three - four. One at a time."

Contorting his body like a snake, Ron managed to duck several hexes which flew in quick succession to his direction. Neville, who was obviously too injured to help and otherwise ineffective without a wand, had at least managed to wedge his body behind Ron's, using the taller boy as a shield. Finally, one of Ron's counter-hexes hit home and a Death Eater fell to the ground. Now there were three - provided no new ones came to join them. The air around the small space between the stairs and the entrance to Gryffindor Tower sizzled with hexes from all directions. A few stray shots shattered several of the portraits on the walls and sent their occupants running screaming for their lives into others. The Fat Lady seemed to be vying with Neville to see who could scream the loudest.

From the sounds of battle behind him, it sounded like Seamus had succeeded in making some of the Death Eaters fall down the stairs in a heap on top of their cohorts, but the furious sounds of fire continued. Ron couldn't afford to duck as two errant shots landed on the ceiling above and showered him in plaster.

"Sorry about that!" Seamus cried. "I - _aah!_"

Ron knew he couldn't afford to look back, but between launching a fresh round of hexes at his attackers to either side of the portrait hole, he cried out:

"Are you all right?"

The response came in the form of the cries of two fallen Death Eaters. The next thing Ron knew, Seamus was back at his side. Between the two of them, they managed to take down two more Death Eaters. Ron threw a quick glance over at Seamus to find that his elbow was now sprouting up in purple boils just like the ones that had covered Luna's face.

"It's all right," asserted Seamus, firing hexes madly at the Death Eaters to their side. "I've used a counter-curse to stop the swelling; it'll hold for a while, I think."

Ron didn't think Seamus sounded so certain but now wasn't the time. The three Death Eaters were still firing away at them and from the sounds of footsteps more were coming to join them from each side.

"Bloody hell," declared Ron. He shot a few quick hexes in the direction of the Death Eaters. One more fell and Ron decided it would have to do.

"Can you walk, Neville?" he whispered urgently.

Neville had finally stopped screaming but he did not look good at all. Looking back, Ron saw that a deep gash had torn through his cloak and sliced a deep, bloody wound across his right knee as though his assailant had thrown a dagger at him.

"I-I-I'm s-s-sorry, R-Ron, I really d-d-d-don't th-think I - "

"All right. Come on, Seamus! This is the best chance we're going to get."

Ron quickly got his feet and grabbed Neville's legs, causing him to scream out in pain again.

"Are you mad?" declared Seamus.

"_Can't you hear them all coming this way? We don't stand a chance if we don't go now!"_

Without another word, Seamus took hold of Neville's collar and the three Gryffindors leapt over the open space between the staircase and the portrait hole that led to the Gryffindor common room, dangerously exposed to the Death Eaters' fire. Seamus had Neville by his collar while Ron held one of his trouser legs, hoping that Neville himself could keep his other leg - the bad one - off the ground. With their other hands, both boys set up shielding charms on either side. The charms managed to hold through a barrage of hexes until they reached the portrait hole. Ron noted ominously that the Fat Lady was nowhere to be seen.

"Traitors cannot hide!" he yelled, recalling the most recent password Umbridge had forced on them.

There was no response. Seamus gave out another cry as his shielding charm failed. Neville managed to hold out his hands at the last minute as he fell to the floor.

"_Come out, you oversized coward! Do you know which house it is you're guarding?"_

"All of the cheeky, little - "

The Fat Lady did not finish her sentence before emerging from behind a forest of trees in another nearby painting to quickly open the portrait hole.

Ron turned around quickly to see that Seamus had fallen to the floor. A reinforcement of four Death Eaters had joined those on their right side. Ron knew they were all sitting ducks. Less out of strength than desperation, he dragged both Neville and Seamus feet first into the common room. He tried to hold onto his wand beneath Seamus' feet but it fell to the floor and rolled back toward the staircase. Ron did not even entertain the idea of going back to retrieve it. The portrait hole closed just as a barrage of hexes landed on what only moments before had been a wide open space.

Ron collapsed to the common room floor, only now allowing his fatigue to run its course. Both Seamus and Neville looked exhausted. Seamus was clutching his other side and the purple boils were running up the length of his arm. Neville was wincing and clutching his knee which had been dragged along the ground when Ron had pulled both of them inside the common room. They all seemed content to lie on the floor for a moment when the firing ominously stopped.

"Traitors cannot hide," said a cold voice on the other side of the portrait hole.

"You think I'm going to let you in just because you have the password?" they heard the Fat Lady retort. "You've got another thing coming, matey. I'm not like that brainless oaf Cardogan. I have free will, you know! I know what you lot want, all dark and smelly."

"Is that so?" came a reply that was closely followed by the chilling laughter of the other Death Eaters.

"C-c-come on, we've got to g-g-get - " Seamus stopped in mid-sentence as he winced in pain. "She's not going to hold them off for much longer."

Ron pulled Neville to his feet and slung his arm around one shoulder. Neville tried to limp forward with his good foot but winced in pain as his bad knee rubbed against Ron's cloak. Seamus quickly stood with what seemed to be equal effort and equal pain.

"Into the fireplace!" said Ron.

Ron half-dragged Neville toward the fireplace. The laughter of the Death Eaters kept growing louder. They could hear the Fat Lady trading insults with them but she seemed to be growing less and less sure of herself. Seamus was limping painfully toward the fireplace. Ron settled a moaning Neville into a half-standing, half-sitting position inside, then came back to drag Seamus in with him. Once all three of them were inside the fireplace, he quickly reached up for a handful of floo powder and cried out crisply and clearly:

"_Hospital Wing!_"

A cloud of emerald smoke flew up to enshroud them. Ron held his injured roommates tightly toward him and braced himself for the whirling sensation of floo travel. But when the smoke cleared, they found themselves continuing to look into the Gryffindor common room.

Ron stared in blank disbelief at the sight ahead of them for a moment as if he couldn't believe it was real. It was the sound of the Fat Lady's growing hysteria in the background that spurred him into action once again.

"_Great Hall!" _he cried, right after throwing another handful of floo at their feet.

A much larger cloud of emerald smoke rose up in front of them like a shower of exploding jade but when it cleared, the deceptively calm and empty Gryffindor common room continued to stretch out before them.

"Bloody hell," said Seamus. "What's going on?"

Ron didn't bother to answer him. The Fat Lady was screaming now and the horrible smell of burning wood and plaster started to fill his nostrils. Without hesitation, he grabbed hold of the remaining container of floo and upended its entire contents into the fireplace. Seamus started to protest but Ron had already cried out:

"_Great Hall!"_

Ron felt as if he had been blasted off his feet. He held his elbow up to his face as an explosive green light rose up from the floo and dazzled his eyes. The fire roared around them for what seemed like ages and in the dizzying chaos of it all Ron was sure they had started to move. When the smoke finally cleared, however, they found they were yet again still in the common room. The screams of the Fat Lady were ear-splitting now but they did not nothing to conceal the mocking laughter of the Death Eaters.

"Tell me we're not bloody done for," said Seamus finally.

"We're not bloody done for!" cried Ron fervently. He quickly stepped out of the fireplace and dragged Seamus after him.

"Our room," he said. "Remember the charms McGonagall had put on our door our third year after Sirius got in?"

"Those won't keep them out forever."

"_Have you got a better idea? Come on!"_

Seamus didn't reply. Ron let him take the lead and then went back to get Neville who seemed glued to the back of the fireplace, his face covered with sweat and an almost delirious look in his eyes.

"Come on, Neville, you've got to get up," said Ron decisively.

"R-R-Ron, I-I d-d-d-don't think - "

"_Neville, if you don't get up, we're going to be bloody target practice as soon as they get through that door!"_

"J-j-j-just leave m-m-e, R-R-R-Ron!"

"I'm not leaving you, _now come on!"_

Ron dragged Neville over his shoulder and pulled him from the fireplace. Seamus managed to walk ahead on his own but Ron had to support Neville by himself since his other roommate was clearly in no fit state to help. They half-drifted, half-dragged their feet forward to the seventh year boys' dormitory like three invalid ghosts propelled on only by will and fear. The Fat Lady's screaming had ominously stopped. Ron swung his head around to see bits of stone wall and plaster fall down into the common room from what had once been the portrait hole.

"_Come on!" _yelled Ron again as they mounted the steps to the dormitories. A journey they had taken every day for the last seven years now seemed the longest climb of their lives. Ron all but shoved Seamus forward to the door as the wall separating the common room from the corridor outside started to fall in completely. Seamus swung down on the handle of the door and the three of them fell inside. Ron slammed the door shut just as the masked Death Eaters burst into the common room and threw a well-placed hex up toward them.

Ron guided Neville over to his bed as Seamus collapsed into the nearest one which was Ron's own. Ron looked over to see that the purple boils were now moving up one side of his face. He seemed too tired to ask Ron what he had planned next but his eyes told his roommate that he had none of his own ideas.

"Have you got your wand?" Ron asked Seamus.

His heart sank as Seamus shook his head. "You?"

Ron shook his head, too, and sighed heavily. "I had to drop it to drag the two of you out of the corridor."

Ron looked at his two friends and found only blank stares looking back at him.

"Hello, Weasel Face," came the sound of an amplified voice from the common room below. "Remember me?"

Ron locked eyes with Seamus.

"Bloody hell," said Seamus. "It's old Nott!"

The painfully discordant chorus of "Weasley is Our King" rose up from the common room below.

"How's your little sister these days, Weasel Face?" asked the voice again. "I shouldn't worry, you know. We've left her safe and sound with Draco. He said they needed some privacy. And we know not to bother him when he says that, don't we, boys?"

A fresh of chorus of mocking laughter followed.

Ron quickly got to his feet and began searching around the room like a crazed animal for something he could use as a weapon.

"Don't, mate!" whispered Seamus. "They're just trying to bait you to come out!"

"And they're succeeding!" Ron shot back between clenched teeth.

"Is Longbottom up there, too?"

Neville quickly moved into sitting position, ignoring the pain in his leg.

"Still the coward we remember, isn't he, boys? Screaming for his mummy. Oh, that's right, we forgot, you don't have a real mummy, do you, Longbottom? Not since our dear Bellatrix got a hold of her."

Neville tried to get to his feet but collapsed to the floor, wincing with fresh pain.

"Don't!" Ron held out a hand, his own anger at Nott's words suddenly forgotten. "Don't think about it, Neville! They're just trying to get under your skin."

"How do they know?" hissed Neville, the pain-induced stammer now gone from his voice. "_How do they know?"_

"Forget about it, mate!" said Seamus.

"You can't hide forever, you know, Weasel Face. We know there's no place for you to go up there. The windows are too small and there aren't any other doors. And we know none of you have your wands; we do. We've orders to kill you, you know, and we can stand here all day if we have to. But if you come out now, we'll see what we can do about making it nice and quick. Otherwise, I'm afraid we can't make any promises, can we, lads?"

Nott's words were followed by a sickening series of guffaws.

"I don't like to say this - " Seamus began.

"_Then don't!" _Ron interrupted sharply, getting to his feet.

"We don't have our wands," said Neville. "And I don't think we have any other weapons."

Ron rounded on him, an almost demonic determination in his eyes. "Oh yes, we do," he replied. "We have what they tried and failed to take from us. We have our memories."

"So quiet, Ginny? Where's your Gryffindor indignation?"

Ginny remained silent but her heart continued to beat quickly. In truth, she was desperately thinking of a way she could get her wand back without Malfoy throwing a hex at her first. So far, she hadn't come up with any good ideas.

"I was just thinking how ridiculous you are. And all the things you said," she replied.

If Ginny had expected that she could bait Malfoy into distraction, she was apparently mistaken. Rather than contorting in anger, his face broke into a smile. In fact, Ginny noted with a small shudder that he suddenly seemed like a boy with an evil secret he couldn't wait to share with someone else.

"And why's that, Ginny?" he asked.

"_You _were the one who let me remember? _You _created the school where you sent the Muggle-borns. I realize Voldemort doesn't have all that many Death Eaters left but I'm surprised you figure so importantly. In fact, I rather doubt you do."

Malfoy's smile faded. For a moment, there seemed a flicker of fear on his face. But then the grin returned along with a soft evil laugh.

"It amazes me how stubbornly you Gryffindors can cling to a lie if it doesn't suit your tidy vision of the world."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"How do you think the Dark Lord returned? You banished him, Ginny. You and Dumbledore - and Potter. He was lost, stung by a curse far more powerful than his own backfired attempt on the infant Potter's life. And he was _very angry, _Ginny." Malfoy's eyes grew very wide. "Angry at all who had done this to him. And do you want to know what he did next, Ginny?"

"Apparently he found some witless, power-hungry fool to house his soul again. That's what Dumbledore thought, anyway."

"The Dark Lord was searching that night for revenge. It was his anger alone that sustained him, but sustain him it did. He knew he was finished but he looked for another who could continue his work, work he had been sustaining in secret, work he was so near to completing, work that Dumbledore and his precious spies from the Order knew nothing about : the opening of the gateway, the end of our existence as weak and corruptible, and the beginning of our immortality. The Dark Lord also knew he had a weakness, a weakness from birth, a weakness that made it impossible for him to finally achieve his plans even for all his great powers. Do you know what that weakness was, Ginny?"

"Yes, he was a self-obsessed homicidal maniac."

"He wasn't a pure blood wizard, Ginny. He wasn't like you and I. His father's dirty blood flowed through his veins, however much he hated it. And so the Dark Lord knew he had to find someone with pure blood, not a blood traitor, but one who truly appreciated the noble pedigree that fate had cruelly denied him. He gave that wizard his knowledge and experience so that he could finish his plans and take his deserved place as the greatest wizard of all time! And do you who he chose, Ginny?"

"I think I told you already. A witless, power-hungry fool."

"No, Ginny. He chose _me_. The Dark Lord visited _me_ that night. _I _am Lord Voldemort."

Ginny looked across at Malfoy for a moment, as though slightly stunned, then threw her head back and laughed.

"_You? _I think he'd choose a three-legged doxie before he chose _you_!"

"No, Ginny. Is it so hard for you to see? Didn't you wonder how I battled as I did in the Hall? Haven't you listened to me talk; can't you see what I can do? Do you really think I'm just a trained-up N.E.W.T. Hogwarts student? Is Dumbledore's great blundering arrogance so hard for you to swallow? He thought if he let me back in this school, if he showered me with his sickly Gryffindor affection, that I would somehow betray my father and my noble blood and serve him! Well, instead, he let the very same wizard he had tried to remove back into this castle and now it is _him_ and all of his mudbloods and mudblood-lovers that I have banished! And you still want to follow the likes of Albus Dumbledore, Ginny?"

Ginny continued to reply by way of a mocking snicker but the uncomfortable voice of Dumbledore that night in his office rang through her memory with crystal clarity:

_There aren't many who would consent to house Voldemort's soul. It is most likely a Death Eater, and more than likely, whoever it is has little appreciation of the consequences of his or her actions._

Malfoy took a step closer.

"Do you want me to prove it to you, Ginny?" he hissed.

"Go on, then." Ginny tried to sound brave but she suddenly felt very nervous.

"I remember everything, Ginny. Everything he knew, I do, too. Yes, Ginny, _everything_." His eyes rested meaningfully on hers. "I know all about the memories he re-created from that diary last year, the diary my father gave him. I remember how you poured out your heart and soul to him. I remember the time he took you into the Chamber. The sound of your cries as you begged him to let you go, the depth of your fear when he emerged, _the feel of your skin under his hands_. _Shall I go on, Ginny, or is the truth finally starting to come to you?_ It's really only a memory of a memory of a memory, of course. Yet it burns in my soul, Ginny. I cannot forget it and I cannot forget you."

Ginny was no longer smiling now. In fact, she was finding it very difficult to breathe or think, but Malfoy's own smile was growing ever more triumphant. He began to walk toward her.

"You never told your parents everything, did you, Ginny? And you lied to Potter. You told him the last thing you remembered was Riddle coming out of the diary. Won't he be unhappy if he ever found out how faithless you've been to him? Not that you had much choice, of course. But the Dark Lord marked you that night, just as surely as he gave Potter his scar. And now you and he have a destiny together. You and _I_ have a destiny, Ginny."

Malfoy stopped walking sickening inches from Ginny's face. She wasn't sure she would ever be able to take in a breath again, but fear as to what Malfoy might do to her and anger at what had been done already forced her to find her voice.

"You fool," she hissed. "He didn't want you because you were pure blood. He wanted you because you were desperate and loyal. And he will destroy you."

Malfoy laughed and shook his head. "Oh, no, Ginny. He won't destroy me. I am the pinnacle of his greatness. I am his apotheosis. Do you know, Ginny, at that school that Potter and the mudbloods go to, they have a God, a God they worship as their savior, their messiah? They believe he rescued them from death itself. Well, the Muggles have their savior; we wizards have ours. _I _am that savior; I am the messiah of our kind, Ginny. _I _am the last of all our gods and you will be there at my side when I deliver all of our people from their mortality!"

"You don't want to deliver our people from anything, Malfoy. You want to destroy them!"

Malfoy shook his head. "No, Ginny. More of Dumbledore's lies. And you still believe him."

"And if you're so confident about yourself, why don't you banish the half-bloods?"

Malfoy suddenly took a step backwards as though he was afraid Ginny was going to strike him. It was obviously not the question he had been expecting.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Why did you just banish Harry? You could have banished all the half-bloods. That was what you did to all the others. Why not that time? Isn't that what you've always wanted: the wizarding world for Pure Bloods only? So why not get rid of _all _the half-bloods? Tell me!"

For the first time since he had trapped Ginny in the room, Malfoy seemed at a loss for words.

"You can't answer me?" Ginny went on. "Then I'll give you the answer myself. You didn't banish the half-bloods because _you_ are a half-blood! You knew there was too little Draco Malfoy left in you to be sure you wouldn't be banishing yourself. Isn't that true, _Tom Marvolo Riddle?"_

Malfoy suddenly looked nothing like the most powerful wizard of all time and very much like a scared child who had ranged far out of his depth.

"That's not true!" he insisted. "I told you I'm _not_ him. I - I only carry his knowledge inside me!"

But Ginny shook her head. "I don't think you did tell me that. I think you said 'I am Lord Voldemort.' And I think you meant it, too. Listen to yourself, Draco. You're switching subjectivities all the time. Sometimes you think you're Draco Malfoy, but more often than not, you forget you're anything other than Voldemort. And it's happening more and more often, isn't it? And before long, there's going to be nothing of Draco Malfoy left. In fact," Ginny finished quietly, as though more to herself than to Malfoy, "it's already too late, isn't it?"

Malfoy raised his wand in Ginny's direction as his face twisted up in rage. "_How dare you? _How _dare_ you accuse me of having dirty blood? I am the last of the Malfoys, the last of the most noble and pure wizarding family left! I'm not - I've never - I don't have any - "

"_ACCIO_ WAND!"

Malfoy suddenly stopped talking as Ginny's wand flew up from the floor and into her hand. The two adversaries stared across at each other for a moment, each gripping their wands very tightly, then Malfoy's face broke out once again into a smile.

"Very good, Ginny. I can see I've misjudged you. You'd make a fine Slytherin after all. What are you going to do to me, Ginny?" he asked mockingly. "Another bat-bogey hex, perhaps? I suppose I probably deserve - "

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Were it not for Lord Voldemort's reflexes, Malfoy would surely have been struck down where he was standing, but before the green light from Ginny's wand struck him, he had flattened himself on the floor. The curse hit the chalkboard behind him which exploded into pieces.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _cried Ginny again, her voice cracking.

But once again Malfoy dove out the way as shards of glass and exploded pieces of wood from what had once been a desk exploded behind the spot where he had just been standing.

Ginny swung her wand around the room, trying to pick up Malfoy again, but it seemed he had moved into the shadows. She had no idea what her curses would do if they really hit their intended target. She remembered Harry telling her that even the Cruciatus Curse required cold hatred to work and her anger for the thing that had destroyed her childhood and taken away the person she loved was anything but cold. But she knew she had a duty to everything that was good and decent to destroy this monster the only way she knew how.

"An unforgivable curse, Ginny?" came Malfoy's voice from the corner of the room. "Does a lifetime sentence in Azkaban appeal to - "

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

Ginny fired again at the sound of the voice just in time to see Malfoy's shadow duck behind another table. She fired again there but he moved a second time and she could not see where he had gone.

But there was one thing that caught Ginny's eye. Malfoy's wand was still lying on the floor near where he had fallen the first time. He was defenseless. If only she could see him to strike -

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _Ginny cried again as Malfoy crawled along the ceiling near the door like a spider, but once again her curse missed.

"I thought you believed in that old fool's prophecies, Ginny. You're not the one who's supposed to kill me."

Malfoy was panting now. Ginny sensed that he was tensing to spring again, but she held onto her wand and said nothing this time, hoping to fool him into another dive. But Malfoy stayed his ground on the wall to the right of the entrance.

"Potter won't be pleased if you steal his thunder, you know."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll find it in his heart to forgive me. _AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Malfoy twisted to his right to avoid the curse again and then bolted toward the door. Ginny's eyes widened and she sprang forward to close the gap but only as she made it almost all the way to the exit did she realize her mistake. With lightning speed, Malfoy ducked back into the room and pounced on his wand. A fresh curse formed in Ginny's mouth but, once again, she was not as quick as her opponent.

"_PETRIFICUS TOTALIS!"_

Ginny felt like her insides had frozen into ice. She could do nothing to stop herself from falling hard to the floor again. Her wand fell out of her hand and rolled only inches away from her body but she could do nothing to retrieve it. Her head splitting in pain and clouded with butterflies from her fall, Ginny could only watch as her adversary walked toward her with the lazy gait of Draco Malfoy and the cruel smile of Lord Voldemort.

"You have been a very bad girl this time, haven't you, Ginny? But don't worry. I've no intention of hurting you. It will all be much easier, though, if you don't try and fight me in your mind."

Ginny heard but did not feel her heart pound as Malfoy continued to walk slowly toward her. She wanted to run; she wanted even to squirm away; and then finally she just wanted to close her eyes. But she could do none of those things. And so she could see quite clearly when a powerful white light exploded from somewhere behind her and sent Malfoy flying back to the other side of the room, an expression of shock and surprise plastered across his face.

A hand touched Ginny's shoulder and she found she could move again. She made for her wand and tried to get to her feet, but the pain had not subsided from her head, and she found herself too groggy to stand. She settled for sitting and then darted her woozy head back and forth to find what it was that had saved her. Two large golf ball-sized eyes found their way into her line of sight.

"Ginny Weasley!"

"_Dobby_? Dobby! _Where in Merlin's name have you been?_ Aaah!_" _Ginny rubbed the side of her head as Dobby's two eyes suddenly became four and began dancing in front of her. "It's been months, Dobby!" she finally managed to say.

"Dobby is very sorry, Ginny Weasley. Dobby is staying with Professor Dumbledore. Dobby is sent to warn Ginny Weasley: Hogwarts is no longer safe!"

"_Really? Do you think?"_

"Dobby is - " Dobby broke off as both he and Ginny saw movement at the other end of the room. Malfoy was slowly getting to his feet, his wand still clutched in his hand, and a none too pleasant look on his face.

Ginny made quickly for her wand again but before she could reach it she felt Dobby take her other hand in his and place a piece of cloth between them. Ginny watched Malfoy angrily approach but then she felt a sharp tug at her hip, and Malfoy and the room where she had been laying were suddenly far, far away.


	16. Dolores Squared

**Chapter 16**

**Dolores Squared**

"We're waiting for you, Weasel Face. Don't make it worse for yourself."

As Ron looked across at his roommate and friend, he could still see that almost all of Seamus's face was now covered in the purple boils, but there was only sharp determination in his light blue eyes. He nodded once at Ron who nodded back. Ron then turned the handle on the door that led out from their dormitory and opened it.

A half dozen masked Death Eaters stood in a semicircle in front of what had once been the wizard chess board where Ron and Harry used to play. Ron felt a painful lump form in his throat as the memories of those happier times once cruelly denied him now wound his emotions into knots. But he forced it back down: if he lost his concentration now, it would be the last thing he would do.

"Come on, then, down here facing us," snapped the middle Death Eater in Nott's voice. "Or do you want your little mudblood wench to think you died a coward?"

Ron felt his anger boil inside but he clenched his fingernails tightly into his palms to make it go away. He was doing this for Hermione, he told himself. He was doing it for Harry, too. He was doing it for everything decent their friendship had created together these last seven years. Ron said nothing as he led Seamus down the steps and into the common room. His ears heard more insults coming from Nott's mouth and laughter from the other Death Eaters as they approached. But his mind never told him what Nott was saying: all he kept thinking of were the sweet faces of his closest friends smiling at him.

Finally, Ron and Seamus reached the bottom of the steps and stood less than a dozen feet in front of the Death Eaters. Ron willed himself not to flinch as all six raised their wands like a firing squad. He saw Seamus glance over in his direction as though to tell him that their time had run out. But Ron knew that the timing had to be perfect if his plan was going to work.

"Ease up, boys," came Nott's voice again. A few of the Death Eaters lowered their wands, some looking impatiently back at their leader. "I think Weasel Face and the half-blood here want to have a duel. Tell us, Weasel Face: are you going to use that thing to block our hexes or do you think this place is so filthy it'll spontaneously combust? It isn't as wretched as your mother's house, you know."

The other Death Eaters laughed stupidly again but Ron and Seamus said nothing. In one respect, Nott had not been mistaken, however. The two Gryffindors were not empty-handed: each carried one of the two torches that had once lit their dormitory, torches they had removed from their brackets before coming down the stairs.

"Where's Longbottom?" Nott demanded.

Silence again.

"Never mind, boys," said Nott again. "Once we've finished with these two, we'll go up and get him. And we'll make it nice and painful for him before he dies."

Once again, guffaws of agreement from the Death Eaters but silence from Seamus and Ron.

"Raise your wands again, lads," said Nott more seriously following a moment's pause. "We're going to have a duel. But since he's not going to win, I think we should give Weasel Face the benefit of a few last words."

Still silence.

"Nothing to say? All right then, lads, the one who hits them first gets to torture Longbottom. On the count of three. One - "

"Sorry," said Ron suddenly. "Actually, I _do_ have something to say. Just one thing."

"Let's hear it then, Weasel Face."

"Cheers."

The Death Eaters tried to swish and flick their wands through the air but Ron was much quicker. His hand flew into the right pocket of his robes. Before the Death Eaters could complete their motion, he grabbed and hurtled a small glass bottle against the wizarding chess table. Ron and Seamus then both threw their torches after it and leapt quickly to the ground in the other direction. At the last second, Nott screamed at his fellow Death Eaters to get out of the way but it was too late. The smashed remains of the Fire Whiskey Harry had smuggled into their room so many months before connected with the fire from the torches. An alcohol far more volatile than any Muggle spirit erupted into an enormous fireball where the Death Eaters had stood only moments before.

As soon as the sound of igniting inferno had died away, Ron and Seamus got to their feet. Ron didn't want to look at what he had done but horrible screams still reached his ears and the acrid stench of burning flesh penetrated his nostrils. He saw Seamus duck as an errant hex flew at them from the other side of the fire. Apparently not all the Death Eaters were down but a towering inferno now raged in between them. Ron hoped it would be enough.

The flames began to lick the staircase to the boys' dormitories. Both boys tried to cover their noses and mouths with their robes but smoke was rising fast from the flames. Seamus was limping again; his eyes had watered over and he had begun to cough. Ron half-pulled him up the staircase, the flames lapping at their feet. Finally, they made it to the top of the stairs and Ron opened the door to their dormitory.

Neville fell out of the door as it opened. Ron stumbled as he managed to catch hold of him before he fell to the floor. Still limping and coughing, Seamus ran into the room and grabbed Ron's and Neville's broomsticks which they had propped against the door before leaving.

"Neville, you've got to get on!" cried Ron.

The only reply Ron heard was a series of coughs. Nevertheless, Neville made his best effort to mount onto the back of Ron's broomstick. Seamus mounted Neville's and the three Gryffindors flew out and over the common room just as the hungry fire leapt up over the steps and began to consume the wooden door to their dormitory.

With the weight of both himself and Neville, it took all of Ron's willpower just to keep the Cleansweep steady for the short journey to the large windows on the far side of the common room that, unlike the small narrow openings in their dormitory, were just about capable of admitting a person.

"Hang on!" he cried.

Neville managed to cover his face with his hands as Ron rammed the end of his broomstick into the window. There was a satisfying smash of glass, although Ron could instantly feel the pinpricks of the jagged pieces eating into his flesh. The bottom of Ron's cloak snagged on pieces sticking up from the bottom of the window but Ron kicked those away, too, and then he and Neville flew out into the night's sky, filling their lungs with glorious fresh air. Seamus flew after them but immediately turned into a sharp dive. Neville hung on as hard as he could as Ron plummeted after him. Once they reached Seamus, they could see that his face was badly blackened and he was unconscious. Ron briefly tried to rouse him but they were far too near the ground. He managed to steady Seamus' broomstick just enough to slow its free fall but they were fast running out of space. Ron felt a painful thud as his broomstick connected with the ground and threw him and Neville several feet in the air. He succeeded in rolling to break his fall and immediately looked up to see what had happened to the others, but this was as much as Ron's body could take. He had not yet raised himself into a sitting position when lights began to dance in front of his eyes and then everything turned to darkness.

Ginny hit the ground with a painful thud but immediately got to her feet again.

"The Portkey is working!" squealed a delighted voice beside her. "Dobby is very pleased. Dobby is saving Ginny Weasley from the horrible dark wizards. Ginny Weasley cannot be hurt here! Dobby will protect her!"

"No, Dobby!" Ginny rounded on the house-elf. "We've got to go back! Ron's in danger! And he's not the only one!"

Dobby looked up at Ginny and then down at the ground several times.

"Dobby is very sorry, Ginny Weasley, but Dobby cannot take her back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Portkey can only work in one direction."

"The Port - " Ginny started, looking back down at the house-elf in disbelief. "But, no, Dobby, that can't be right! _You_ came back to Hogwarts!"

"Indeed Dobby did, but Dobby is a house-elf and there are some things house-elves can do that wizards cannot." Dobby looked at the ground again as though ashamed of his abilities. "But if Ginny Weasley likes, Dobby will return. Dobby is ever grateful to Mr. Ronald Weasley and he has not forgotten that he is Harry Potter's best friend in the world. Dobby is _most_ grateful to Harry Potter, because Harry Potter set him free."

Dobby looked back up at Ginny with very sad eyes and then made to snap his fingers but Ginny quickly took hold of his hand.

"No, Dobby," she said, more quietly. "Enough people have died tonight. Enough people have died because of _me_. And I don't want to add you to the list."

"But Dobby is not a person, Ginny - "

"_Yes, you are!"_

Dobby looked up at Ginny slightly fearfully and then quickly nodded.

"But why can't I go back, Dobby? It can't be that difficult to make a Portkey, can it? Where are we any - "

Ginny broke off as she turned around to study her surroundings for the first time and then took in a sharp breath and fell silent.

She and Dobby were standing out in the open air. The grass was tall and cool under Ginny's feet but the air was warm, much warmer than it had seemed outside Hogwarts and Ginny suddenly had the impression they were very far away from the school indeed. They seemed to be on the top of some sort of hill. The tranquil sound of a warm breeze rustling through the new leaves told Ginny that there was a forest behind her. But she was looking down ahead of her through a clearing in the hill to a valley below. There, crowned by the starlight in the velvety-black sky above them were hundreds of tiny myriad lights. It was though someone had created a vast mirror of the heavens. Ginny squinted in disbelief at it all: it seemed like she was looking down at a village for fairies. Looking more closely, Ginny could see that the most of the lights came from what looked like miniature torches; others emitted from small ground fires made from the tiniest of sticks. Struggling to focus more closely, she could make out very small figures moving around on the ground. Each was walking in and out of small huts or tents that trailed minute traces of smoke out into the sky. Ginny peered at the figures more closely and then drew her head back in a gasp.

"Is that - " she began to ask. "Are we - "

"Ginny Weasley is looking at an elfin village," said Dobby. "Ginny Weasley will stay here now and rest. But first Dobby must take Ginny Weasley to see Professor Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore is waiting for her. Ginny Weasley must be careful. The mountain is very steep. Dobby will help Ginny Weasley."

Ginny found herself speechless at the Lilliputian beauty below her. Her eyes remained fixed on the village as though glued there with a charm. Her attention was distracted only momentarily as Dobby reached out his hand as if to grab the sky and came up with a long stick a little larger than a wand. He waved it again and a small light appeared at the end. Ginny then felt his small hand in hers and he guided her down the mountain slope.

The lights grew more distinct as they made their way down but they did not seem to grow any larger, only more numerous. Ginny felt as though she had lost all perspective. It was not until they reached the foot of the hill and the outskirts of the village itself that Ginny's mind caught up with her eyes. As they passed the first curious huts, Ginny couldn't help but stop and stare at them like a small child peering into a doll's house. The huts seemed to have been thrown together with piles of pebbles and sticks. The gaps between them were plugged with loose bits of random cloth that looked like they had been torn from the remains of spare quilts in the Hogwarts dormitories. The resulting structures did not look like anything that should have remained standing. It was as though the pebbles and sticks had been idly thrown up in the air and ended up stuck together. Ginny was certain they must have been held up with magic.

The first two huts they passed seemed empty but there was a light inside the third one. Ginny couldn't restrain her curiosity, even as Dobby tugged on her hand and propelled her more quickly forward. She was still watching when the flap on the tent opened and two pairs of large house-elf eyes peered out at her. Even though she had trouble telling male and female house elves apart, Ginny felt somehow that they must have been a couple. She was still surprised, however, to see a slightly smaller house-elf with smaller tucked-back ears but a ridiculously long and narrow nose emerge from between their feet. The younger house-elf met her hypnotic stare and Ginny wondered whether he had ever seen a witch before.

Ginny was still staring at the smaller house-elf when Dobby succeeded in pulling her forward again. She reluctantly turned away from the small hut and continued to look ahead. She found that they were walking down some sort of central avenue that seemed to lead to a much larger hut in the center of the village. They had not walked much further forward when Ginny felt an even tinier hand in her other palm. She looked down and found that the diminutive house-elf child was now walking along with them, his face still staring up in awe and surprise at their curious visitor.

"Should he be - "

Ginny quickly swung her head back around and found that both of the house-elves' parents were staring out of their hut. They seemed very curious but unconcerned that their offspring had walked away from them.

"_Myahe I'ckmin Ohei_," said the tiny voice of the child suddenly.

"I - I beg your pardon?" was the only thing Ginny could reply.

"_Myahe I'ckmin Ohei_," repeated the child again, his eyes never leaving Ginny's.

"_Myahe I'ckmin Jiniwuzhy, t'ckmin ose julis,_" said Dobby.

"_Ose_," said the little house-elf and continued to stare back up at Ginny.

"Wh - what did you say? What did you tell him?" asked Ginny.

"Not to worry, Ginny Weasley," said Dobby brightly. "I told her your name and that you couldn't speak Elfish."

Ginny took in a small breath and held it for a moment. She had always assumed that house-elves were somehow slower or stupider than humans. She had never considered that they were speaking in a language other than their mother tongue.

"I - I never knew house-elves could speak a different language," she finally said.

"Oh, yes, Ginny Weasley. Siosia is not a house-elf, though," he added, without seeming to take any sort of offense. "She is just an elf. But perhaps when she is growing up, she can become one!"

Dobby seemed very pleased with himself at the thought, though Ginny couldn't help but feel that the idea that this small child would grow up to be a slave was monstrous. She began to understand what Hermione had been trying to do all along by organizing S.P.E.W. and wondered why she had never taken more time to listen to her friend.

They continued to walk down the central pathway. The tall grass through which they had walked down from the hillside to get to this point had grown shorter and then turned to just mud and dirt, but it wasn't paved or stoned in any way. The huts grew more plentiful, some even larger, and they began to stretch out from the central avenue along smaller paths. Several families sat outside them, cooking out of strange tall, narrow-looking cylinders that stood over fires lit with twigs. Great numbers of large curious eyes peeked out from between and inside the huts. And while the adults were content to watch and stare at Ginny with curiosity, the children - some even smaller and others slightly larger than Siosia - skipped out to join them. The older they were, the further forward their ears seemed to stretch out from their heads until finally those of the adults spread out at a ninety-degree angle. Their noses, by contrast, seemed to contract as they aged, but even those of the adults were still quite long. Before much time had passed, Ginny found herself trailed by an entourage of tiny, skipping elfin children, each of whom wanted to jump up and hold onto her arms, legs, the sleeves of her robes, any part of her. Dobby admonished them when they impeded Ginny's movement but otherwise seemed indulgent. Ginny looked around her to find that the adult house-elves (or were they just elves?) now ringed each side of the avenue as though they were greeting a procession. Several held long, narrow torches like the one Dobby had in his hand. At the sight of the elves on either side and the feel of tiny hands all around her, Ginny felt something unwind inside her and a sound catch in her throat. A moment later, she released it as laughter, and it was returned to her by all of the tiny elves dancing around her. She wasn't at all sure what she was laughing about but it seemed that now she had started, she could not stop.

Dobby continued to lead the way in front of Ginny. It became clear that they were getting nearer and nearer the center of some sort of village and now Ginny could see more clearly what that center looked like. It seemed to be at the intersection of four avenues that led out from its center. Later, she became aware that there were actually eight pathways, leading out like the spokes of a wheel. On a slightly raised mound of earth sat the largest hut Ginny had seen in the village, although it was little more than three stories high. It was round, but its total circumference was probably no more than about two dozen meters. It was also made of pebbles and sticks and looked to have been built no less haphazardly than anything else in the village. Long red sheets draped down from a dome at its top. While somewhat dirty and faded, they were at least of a single piece unlike the patchwork of haphazard cloth that covered the other huts. At the top of the dome were two white circles ending in black dots, which looked to have been hastily painted onto two large slabs of wood. Ginny looked up at them for a few moments before she realized that they represented two large house-elf eyes.

In front of the hut was a small rectangular opening which all of the house-elves refrained from stepping on. Unlike the trampled-on dirt of the remainder of the village center, this patch of earth was still covered in fresh green grass. Preserved in the center of what was otherwise a hive of activity, Ginny couldn't help but think that this rectangular area marked some kind of sacred space.

She had no sooner finished these thoughts when the door to the larger hut opened. The crowd of house-elves around her, both children and adults, who had been tittering and chatting in their native tongue suddenly fell silent. A lone child was still carrying out a conversation with his friend but both were quickly silenced by the adult house-elves standing over them.

Ginny fixed her eyes on the opening to see who would emerge. A wizened-looking house-elf was the first to come out of the hut. His face was curled up in a frown. As he limped toward her, Ginny could see that he sprouted bits of white hair from his ears.

"Kreacher!" Ginny cried out.

There were murmurs, some of surprise and astonishment, others of curiosity from the gathering house-elves, but they quickly fell silent again. Ginny feared she had transgressed what was obviously basic house-elf decorum but she knew that she could not have restrained herself. What was Kreacher doing here, in the center of a house-elf village, in a position of some obvious authority?

"This is the elder Ju'ipo Fey," whispered Dobby. "He is not having any English name. And I do not think it would be Kreacher." He lowered his voice still further. "That is Dark Wizard naming."

Ginny felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment and stupidity. Despite spending the last several years in a school full of house-elves, she realized she still knew very few and could not really tell them apart very easily. But, of course, that was how house-elves were supposed to be at Hogwarts: unseen and unheard. Looking closer, she could see that Ju'ipo Fey was slightly shorter than Kreacher, and he seemed older, too. He was also supporting himself with a long, thin stick that seemed as though it would snap in two whenever he put his weight on it.

The tent opened again and another house-elf emerged. This one was shorter, thinner, but somehow more alert than its fellow. A strange-looking red felt hat crowned its head and tucked in behind both of its ears which were unusually long. Only when she saw the hat did Ginny realize that this was the only house-elf in the village who wore any sort of clothing at all.

At the appearance of this new elf, all of the house-elves around her, save for the other that had emerged from the tent, fell to their knees on the ground. Ginny quickly bent her knees to do the same but she heard gasping and felt herself lifted back up by the combined weight of the house-elves behind her.

"You are a guest and guests cannot bow," explained a crouching Dobby in a whisper. "It's meaning your host is not good to you."

"Oh - sorry," Ginny whispered back, feeling stupid again.

"Do not worry, Ginny Weasley," replied Dobby, flashing her back a faithful smile.

With all of the house-elves kneeling around her, Ginny decided she had never felt so tall. Her feeling did not change as the two elder house-elves approached her. They both stood and stared her up and down for a moment, their curiosity almost as unabashed as the child elves that still surrounded her. Finally, Ju'ipo Fey moved differentially to the side, and the elf with the red cap stood right in front of Ginny.

"_Ose Kei on Ja'hak!un."_

_"Ose Kei_," replied Dobby. "Our honorable head village elder M'iu M'po welcomes you to our village."

"Please thank him for me, Dobby."

"_Her, _Ginny Weasley."

"Oh." Ginny's eyes widened as she looked back and forth between M'iu M'po and the male Ju'ipo Fey who stood differentially behind her.

"_Nose bang-bang Jiniwuzhy ose,_" said Dobby.

"_Ose, t'kio mange-mange, t'kio t!uk t!uk Du'umbuk-duk."_

"The elder M'iu M'po thanks you for accepting her blessing and invites you to eat with us and visit with Professor Dumbledore."

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, reality seemed to come crashing back to Ginny. She realized she had to explain to him that they had to go back to Hogwarts and rescue Ron and the others. She tried to conceal her anxiousness as both M'iu M'po and Ju'ipo Fey gestured for her to enter the tent. She walked slowly and did not look back. It wasn't until she entered the hut that she realized no one had followed her, including Dobby.

The inside of the hut, which seemed made up of only a single large, round room was cool and dark and Ginny found it difficult to adjust her eyes. She had not yet fully done so when she heard a flurry of wings. A snowy-white owl landed on her hand and began to ruffle its feathers against her arm affectionately.

"Hedwig!" Ginny exclaimed.

The owl hooted in equal enthusiasm. Ginny giggled as Hedwig nipped at her hand affectionately, tickling it.

"Hedwig is not the only one pleased to see you, Ginny."

Ginny looked into the far corner of the tent. Albus Dumbledore stood there impassively, the dim light from three twigs planted upwards in the earthen ground at the base of the tent casting light over his familiar white hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and twinkling eyes.

Ginny took a step toward Dumbledore and studied him for a moment, as though unsure she could believe he was real.

"Do you _remember_?" she finally asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "Everything in fact. When I left the field of the memory ball at the school, my memories were returned to me. And Lord Voldemort's charms cannot penetrate into this village. In fact, he has no means of knowing we are here."

"But how did you get out that night?"

"The same way you did. The house-elves rescued us. They knew we were about to be expelled. They had overheard Malfoy and Wormtail talking just as Sirius had. They Portkeyed us here."

"Well, we have to Portkey back! Hogwarts has been attacked by the Death Eaters! Ron went looking for me and they've set a trap for him! I can't stay here; I have to - "

But Dumbledore held up a restraining hand.

"I'm afraid that's not possible. The elves' Portkey is not an ordinary one. I'm afraid they've had far too long and unfortunate an experience with outsiders to make it very easy for us to enter or leave their villages. It takes many weeks of ritual and concerted magical effort for them to prepare even one and we do not possess the knowledge to help them. And the Portkeys only work in one direction. _They_ can travel back and forth to Hogwarts but we cannot. And as for Apparation - "

But Ginny did not let Dumbledore finish his sentence.

"Are you telling me there's nothing we can do?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to trust your brother to look after himself. I do not wish it, but there we are. And he is not alone."

"_Brilliant! _That's just spectacular, wonderful!" Ginny flung her hands wide and Hedwig flew back to her perch with a hoot. "I'm going to just be stuck here with you and wait - don't tell me - we're going to be doing _absolutely nothing!_ Just as _you_ have for the past few months!"

"That's not entirely fair, Ginny," replied Dumbledore with only the faintest hint of remonstration. "We _have _been trying to rescue you. As I told you - "

"Rescue _me_? Well, congratulations, you made it. Another second there and I would have been kidnapped, atomized, or I don't want to say what, but, yes, you rescued me. People have been killed but, yes, you rescued me!"

"We could, of course, send one of the elves back to - "

"Yes, let's do that! Risk more innocent lives on my behalf! After all, what's one more death when the world's about to end? And how are we doing on that front?"

Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply but this time, he did not succeed in getting out a single word.

"Let me guess, _nowhere! _Rescuing Harry and Hermione, _nowhere either, right? _We're all safe in our little village. Meanwhile, while we're conveniently out of the way, Malfoy is busy turning Hogwarts into a Death Eater hell and counting down the days until he becomes a very nasty god! And, oh, did you know? _He's Voldemort!_"

It was very obvious from the non-plussed expression on Dumbledore's face that he had not known.

Ginny felt tears prick her eyes. "You don't _know _anything! You can't _do _anything! You're supposed to be - you're the - _you've messed everything up!"_

Dumbledore did not try to move out of the way as Ginny ran toward him and began hitting her fists ineffectually against his robes. But when she quickly stopped doing this and instead buried her sobbing head in his chest, the once headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry put his arms around her and ran his fingers gently through her long red hair.

"Yes, Ginny," he murmured quietly. "I'm rather afraid I have."

"Hermione, where's he taking us?" hissed Lavender.

"You'll find out."

"Why are you giggling? Hermione, please, this is serious. This isn't funny."

"Oh, but it is. It's hilarious in fact."

"There is a funny side, I agree," said Snape, flashing Hermione an outrageously uncharacteristic wink.

"Hermione, he's - but he's - _what's going on?"_

"Lavender, keep your voice down, _please!"_

"What do you mean 'keep my voice down?' We've been led out of church by the headmaster! How could we get - " Lavender's eyes widened. "Oh my God, he's - he's some kind of horrible child molester, isn't he? I knew it the first time I laid eyes on him! A - and you're - you're - you and Harry are his accomplices, aren't you? I want to go back!"

Lavender swung around and headed back up the corridor but was quickly restrained by both Hermione and Snape.

"_Let me go!" _she moaned.

"Lavender," said Hermione, trying to conceal the irritation in her voice. "You're going to have to trust us. Do I seem like a child molester to you? Really?"

"No," said Lavender but she still regarded her roommate suspiciously.

"Then trust us," said Snape. "We're almost there, anyway."

"Wh - wh - where's there?"

Snape led her to the door to the secondary maths classroom and turned the handle to open it. Lavender stared up at him reluctantly for a moment and then looked quizzically back at Hermione who nodded reassuringly. She then walked slowly into the room and was surprised to see not only Harry, but also Colin and Dennis Creevey, Arabella Wycliffe, Euan Abercrombie, and a girl Lavender thought was named Eloise Midgen. Each looked up to her when she entered.

"I'd like you all to welcome Lavender," Snape announced, smiling as though his face had just learned how. "She already seems to have a knack at cracking memory charms. And I'm sure there's a lot more she can do when we start training her."

"I hope you've put a silencing charm on the room," said Hermione, closing the door behind them. "I know she's going to scream."

Snape did not reply. Lavender looked back at them apprehensively. But that was nothing to her expression when the headmaster suddenly turned into a man with long, mangy hair and dark circles under his penetrating bloodshot eyes.

And then, just as her roommate had predicted she would, Lavender screamed.

"Easy does it, mate."

"I think he might be coming around, Poppy."

"Give him some room to breathe then!"

A blurry world swam sharply into focus. Ron looked up to find the concerned-looking faces of Neville, Professor Harmon, and Professor McGonagall looking down at him. His first impression was that he was lying on a bed in the hospital wing; he could distinctly feel a pillow beneath his head and sheets and a blanket on top of his body. But the next moment, Ron found his eyes adjusting to the sharp glare of daylight. Still half-disoriented and profoundly suspicious of anything amiss, Ron swung quickly off the bed, causing Neville to leap to one side, and found that his feet touched not the floor of the hospital wing but the very cool earth.

"Mr. Weasley," came Madam Pomfrey's voice from somewhere in the background. "You've had a very nasty bump on the head! If you would be so kind as to stay - "

But Ron did not listen. Ignoring the still splitting pain in his head and the wet cold on his bare feet, he stood up and found himself blocked by one side of a cloth tent. He felt McGonagall's protesting hand on his shoulder as he searched for an outside flap but he shook it off. With still unclear determination, Ron found an opening and broke outside of the tent only to discover himself on the Hogwarts grounds just at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. When he stood up to look at the castle building, his eyes streaming from the glare of the sun in the pristine sky above him, he could see why.

The school that he had attended for almost seven years was now a charred, blackened ruin. A burned-out frame still marked what once had been the entire west length of the castle. The east wall did not even have a frame and there was no roof, laying the entirety of what once had been several stories of castle open to the sky. Underneath the frame, what had once been a very large school was now an extremely large pile of rubble. Both Gryffindor Tower and the tower that had once held Dumbledore's office were nowhere to be seen, and the Ravenclaw, North, and West Towers were about half their previous height. The Astronomy Tower was the only one that still reached up to the top but its insides appeared gutted. Small fires continued to burn all around the rubble and large groups of house elves were ferrying buckets of water onto the remaining flames.

"D - did - did _I _do that?" Ron wondered aloud.

He felt a hand on his shoulder again but this time it was less in restraint than commiseration.

"No, Mr. Weasley," replied McGonagall. "It is true that you started quite a blaze in Gryffindor Tower, most ingeniously from what I understand." Her lips twitched slightly. "But the Death Eaters themselves made things far worse. I'm still not quite sure how but they managed to use some sort of Dark Magic to ignite and explode all of the fireplaces within the floo network. The main motive seemed to have been to smoke out Dolores Umbridge from where we had been holding her captive in Professor Dumbledore's office. I also think they were trying to make sure no one survived to tell anyone what we were supposed to have all forgotten. I'm pleased to say that at least one of their aims was unsuccessful. We have a number of casualties but everyone else seems to have survived. We managed to capture some of the Death Eaters - mostly the trained students - but we're not sure how many of them got away or how many of them died in the castle."

"Neville?" asked Ron, suddenly recalling with full force the perilous position he and his friends had been in the moment before they had fallen unconscious on the ground just underneath Gryffindor Tower.

"I'm right here," said Neville, joining them. "It was a bit nasty but Madam Pomfrey managed to fix up my knee. You ended up a lot worse, though, mate. Your head didn't half split open on the ground last night, did you know?"

"Thank you, Mr. Longbottom," said McGonagall with a hint of reproach. Neville grimaced sheepishly.

Ron's hand went to his forehead to find there was still a large bumpy scar that stung painfully when he touched it. But he was still in no mood to return to bed.

"Seamus?" he demanded.

McGonagall and Neville exchanged slightly uneasy glances, but Neville spoke up quickly.

"He's still in a bit of a state and he hasn't woken up yet. They did some nasty hexes on him. But Madam Pomfrey thinks he's gotten the better of it."

At the mention of nasty hexes another memory came back to Ron. He looked Neville and uneasily in the eye and said quietly:

"Luna?"

Ron let out a breath as Neville smiled at him, color rising in his cheeks.

"She's still not come round yet. But her - well, you know, her _face_ has cleared up a lot - and Madam Pomfrey says she's going to be all right."

"And we have some other news for you, too," added McGonagall. "One of the house-elves told us not long ago. Your sister is safe."

"Ginny!" cried Ron in response. "But where - where is she? I want to see her!"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," replied McGonagall. "She's in a house-elf village. We're forbidden to know its location. Professor Lupin and Professor Dumbledore are with her."

"Forbidden to - I thought the house-elves were on _our_ side?"

"Perhaps I should put this to you more plainly, Mr. Weasley," said McGonagall, her lips drawing terse again. "If we could find out, then so could the Death Eaters and I don't think you want that to happen, do you?"

"Oh... no," said Ron, rubbing his aching head and still not quite sure he understood. "Can I send her a note?"

McGonagall hesitated for a moment. She seemed on the point of refusing Ron but then nodded.

"A short note, if you must, Mr. Weasley. But please don't make a habit of it. There is always a danger they may be intercepted. I can send it with a house-elf; they're the only ones who can travel back and forth freely, without great difficulties, that is. And Mr. Weasley: do not even _think _of sending her an owl; it's far too risky."

Ron nodded. "What happened to Malfoy?" he asked.

McGonagall sighed. "We couldn't find him. He seems to have disappeared completely. But whatever he wanted with your sister, he didn't succeed. Now, if you have no further questions, I think Madam Pomfrey would like to see you back in bed."

McGonagall indicated Madam Pomfrey who stood at the edge of the tent, quietly fuming that Ron had been allowed to venture so long out of bed in his condition. Ron began to slowly walk back to the tent, followed by McGonagall and Neville. He peered around the grounds as he did so to see a number of makeshift tents, most of which seemed to have been erected by magic. There were only about two dozen students standing around in groups on the lawn, even fewer staff, and a large number of house-elves. He remembered that most of the students and some of the staff had been evacuated to St. Mungo's after the initial attack. But, still, something seemed missing. And in Ron's still woozy mind, he tried desperately to figure out what. And then, in a flash of realization, he knew.

Ron swung around to look at McGonagall, ignoring a fresh throbbing pain that had appeared in his temple.

"Where - where is she? Umbridge? She didn't get out, did she? Please tell me you let her burn?"

McGonagall's lips pursed. "I will tell you truthfully, Mr. Weasley, that I was extremely tempted. However, I do not aspire to the status of Dark Wizard myself. We tried to move her and it was then that she escaped."

"Escaped? B - but _how_, to where?"

"That was what we hoped you might still be able to tell us, Mr. Weasley," she replied.

"_After_ he gets some more rest!" demanded Madam Pomfrey.

"No, now!" insisted Ron. "But why do you think I would know?"

Ignoring a mutinous glance from Madam Pomfrey, McGonagall went on.

"Please try to think, Mr. Weasley: before your sister disappeared, did she say anything to you about anything unusual in Umbridge's office?"

"Well... no, she didn't say all that much to me at all, I mean - " Ron lowered his eyes. "I didn't believe her about the memories. I think, after a time, she decided it was better not to tell me too much. And then when we got the memories back, there wasn't any time. We had to come down into the hall, and then - " Ron sighed. "You know the rest." He paused for only a moment. "What happened?"

McGonagall hesitated and Ron could see that she wasn't entirely sure she should let on. Neville edged closer to them and it was obvious that he didn't know either. Faced with two very curious Gryffindor faces, McGonagall sighed.

"Very well," she said. "I expect you'll hear it from the other students sooner or later. As I explained before, the Death Eaters tried to smoke Umbridge out of her office by setting the floo network on fire. We tried to move her but," McGonagall paused, "we weren't very successful. She actually threw herself into the fire and succeeded in releasing her bonds. I myself was only just arriving when she rolled herself out of the flames. We thought she might have been burned but she came up firing and hit Hannah Abbot with a very nasty stunning spell." McGonagall lowered her voice. "We're still not very sure if she'll come out of it."

Ron and Neville followed McGonagall's gaze to a bed in a further part of the tent. It was then that Ron noticed that the tent contained more than a dozen beds, more, in fact, than there had been in the whole of the old hospital wing. All of them contained students. Some were conscious and talking but others were still asleep. His attention was returned to McGonagall when she started to talk again.

"The rest of us tried to stop her. We thought she'd make for the exit. As far as we knew, it was the only way out of the office. But she didn't. She ducked into an alcove and touched her wand to a small opening on the wall. It must have been some kind of secret panel. I don't think it was there when Professor Dumbledore had the office. We continued to fire at her. She fired back and still didn't move her ground. Whatever was inside the wall was obviously important to her. Finally, she succeeded in forcing us to duck to the corners: for someone who never taught real Defense skills, she certainly turned out to know a surprising number. Once we were out of the way, she reached her hand inside the panel and pulled out some kind of parchment. And then - " McGonagall paused again.

"Yes?" asked Ron.

"Well, the next part was the strangest of all. When she reached for the parchment, I came up firing again. I thought I had her but then she seemed to curl her body and disappear sideways into one of the paintings."

"And that's it?" demanded Ron when McGonagall stopped talking.

"We tried to move forward but then the flames rose around us. I was afraid we would be trapped so I took hold of Hannah and shouted at the others to come with me. We just managed to escape down the staircase as the whole place went up."

"But what was the painting of?" asked Neville.

McGonagall hesitated. "It was a portrait of an old room in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. An old... _chamber_, containing a very old archway with a veil."

Sirius had gone to get Dean just after Lavender had arrived. This had been Hermione's idea after Lavender had been unable to stop shouting and crying hysterically. While Sirius had been gone, it had taken the remaining students all of their efforts to persuade her not to run away and go looking for the nuns. After Sirius had returned with Dean, she calmed down a little bit. But although he had been much more rational about the whole affair than his girlfriend, Dean was hardly taking it in his stride, not that Hermione could blame him. She remembered the entries she had read in the diary Sirius had gave her. According to that account, it had been Dean who had tried to convince her of the existence of magic and, quite understandably, she had very much doubted him herself.

Still, Hermione thought to herself, it had taken Lavender a lot longer than the others to adjust, perhaps because she had shown little outward signs of magical abilities, apart from being able to crack memory charms. But this did not lead Hermione to forgive her roommate so easily, especially as her histrionics had wasted valuable time from their lesson. Sirius' magic classes - Defense Against the Dark Arts classes as he called them - were the only thing she had to look forward to all week and they had had very little time to learn anything this time. She could sense that Sirius was impatient, too, although he had done a better job of disguising that impatience to Lavender than she had.

Once they had finally convinced Lavender (and to a lesser extent Dean) to calm down, Sirius decided just to review their lesson on levitation charms from the previous week. Hermione was pleased to see that he started with Arabella, who had struggled with levitation charms since they had first started to learn them. She sensed that some of the other students were impatient, especially when Arabella still took a long time to master the charm, but Sirius did a very good job of using her efforts as a way to better explain the lesson to the whole group. And his efforts paid off: by the lesson's end, Arabella had succeeding in levitating a cup of water nearly six feet in the air while spilling only the tiniest of drops. Hermione could see on her face a sense of pride and accomplishment that had been absent ever since the first day Hermione had met her in this miserable school. And she felt as glad as if she had done the charm correctly herself.

They walked back to the chapel in groups of two. Sirius had explained once that returning as a whole group might test the limits of the memory charm. Hermione still wasn't quite sure what that meant or how it was possible that the nuns did not notice even groups of two students returning, which they surely would not have missed under ordinary circumstances. She and Harry were the last to go as usual. Hermione could hear the chords of the closing hymn starting up. She knew that they had little time to return but she wanted to let Sirius know how she felt. Harry, however, beat her to it.

"That was a very kind thing you did back there," he told his godfather. "I've never seen Arabella as pleased as that before. She usually looks so miserable."

Sirius smiled. "Believe me, Harry. I understand how she feels. I've been in some very dark places myself."

"She killed her father, you see," added Hermione, a little quietly, even though she knew the sound of their voices could not travel past the range of Sirius's silencing charm. "O - of course, he had been terrible to her and her mother, not that I'm suggesting - "

"But that's a lie!" said Sirius suddenly, his smile fading and a dark cloud passing over his features. "I told you I know what it's like and I do. I was told I'd killed someone once and even though I knew that I hadn't, there were times when I sank so far, I began to believe it myself. Of course, the dementors didn't help much."

Hermione didn't pause to ask what dementors were. She was far more interested in the first thing Sirius had said.

"B - but she _did_," she protested, giving Sirius what must have been a very strange look. "It took an awful lot out of her to finally tell me. I can remember - "

"That's just it!" said Sirius, his face twisting and eyes bulging in what Hermione had come to think of as his crazed look, an expression that never seemed far below the flexible mask of his features. "_You_ remember. _She _remembers. But that's all it is. A memory. And memories can be altered."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Are you saying - "

"Think, Hermione, _think_!" urged Sirius, clenching and unclenching his hands. "What's the best way to pull someone down, to weaken their resistance, to crush their defiance?"

It was Harry who answered. "Make them believe it was their fault. That they deserve whatever it is they're getting."

"Exactly, Harry! In the hands of the oppressor, guilt is a far more powerful weapon than any gun or sword."

But Harry's face hardened. "But I know I killed my aunt. It didn't seem real at first, but now I know I did it. And it's not easy but I've learned to live with it. And that doesn't mean I think the nuns can do whatever they like to me or my friends."

Sirius took hold of Harry's shoulders. "But, Harry, you _didn't_ kill your aunt! None of it's true!"

Harry shook himself out of Sirius's grip. The two of them stared at each other for a moment. Hermione knew what Harry was thinking; it had tormented her soul, too, for so many years: they had both spent so much time denying their crimes to themselves. At least she hadn't killed anyone. Harry, like Arabella, had to wake up every morning looking into the mirror and seeing a murderer's face look back at him. And yet he had managed to accept that and put it behind him. And now Sirius was dangling the prospect of innocence over his head again like a worm on the hook of a hungry fish. Hermione knew that part of Harry was wondering whether accepting what his godfather said would mean that he would have to go through the whole painful process of confronting his guilt all over again. She wondered whether Sirius realized this.

"You keep talking about memories," Harry finally said, "but where _are_ these memories? How can we - " Harry stopped himself. "I want to believe you, Sirius. I - I _do _believe you but - but - I can't - _we _can't really understand what you're saying until we get them back."

Hermione was pleased when Harry looked over to her for support and she gave him a silent nod of encouragement. She didn't manage to look Sirius quite properly in the eye when she did it, however. Her heart went out to their magical teacher but she also knew that Harry's question had to be asked, and it would have been hers also.

Harry's question seemed to hang in the air as though it was taking an eternity to travel to Sirius's ear. The ominous chords of the final hymn's final verse, pierced by Sister Barnes's shrill descant, broke into full swing in the background. Hermione knew they had no time left to stand here talking to Sirius and she knew that Sirius knew it, too, but she hoped for Harry's sake that he didn't say it.

Sirius looked at Harry for a moment and then sighed.

"You're right, both of you, of course," he said, shifting his gaze back and forth between Harry and Hermione. "I know it has to be in this school somewhere but I'm afraid I'm no closer to finding it. But there is another way," Sirius added, as though coming to a decision himself. "If I can get you out of this school - out of this _world_ - then your memories might be returned to you. It's a bit difficult to explain but I think it's time I organized a jailbreak."

Snape sat at his desk, staring at the video monitor. A smashed teacup and saucer littered the floor at his feet in testament to his frustration. Snape normally kept everything meticulously neat but now he found that he couldn't be bothered to pick up the pieces. He felt content to let them litter the floor, ornaments to his increasing clutter. Neatness was no longer a sufficient temptation for the headmaster to tear his eyes away from his obsession with things did not make sense. And the video display on his screen, like many before it, simply did not make sense.

It was the same every Sunday. It had become almost predictable. Snape was looking down at a view of the chapel. He could see the teachers and students, all lined up in deceptively neat and orderly rows, appearing not to dare to make any noise or movement. Snape could see his own profile as he sat in the chair off to the side of the chapel. Monsignor Downs, who presided over the weekly mass, stood at the front of the altar. They were singing the opening hymn...

And then the screen flickered - as Snape knew it would. Monsignor Downs had moved, as if by magic, to the lectern, where he was now beginning to read the first lesson. The counter at the top of the screen showed that two minutes had elapsed. Snape angrily hammered at the fast-forward button at the screen. But he already knew from past experience what he was going to find.

Another two minutes would disappear from the tape at the end of the mass during the closing hymn.

Two minutes at the beginning and two minutes at the end, just like the two minutes missing from the video the day that guard had talked to Potter in the playground two months before.

But what did it mean? What could have happened during those two minutes, and _how_?

The playground incident had been damnable; Snape was sure someone had gotten into his office and tampered with the tape, most likely that guard. But the missing time from the Sunday mass, week after week, had now passed well beyond the bizarre. _Snape himself had been sitting there in the chapel the whole time and he __knew__ that nothing had happened. _Yet somehow he felt certain that it had.

And every week, when Snape left the chapel, he found that the same four minutes had been deleted from the security tape. Snape knew that it should have been impossible for anyone to touch the tape. Trusting no one, he had specifically spread the disinformation among the staff that he had no intention of taping mass, even after the attempted jailbreak of Granger and her friends. To do so would have been unforgivably sacrilegious, he had told them, and would have undermined everything they were trying to create in the school. He had taken to keeping the camera and VCR locked in a drawer to which only he knew the combination; he had asked for his office lock to be re-cored under suspicion that someone else had the key. He obsessively glanced at the mirror in the church behind which the camera was hidden to determine that no one could have possibly tampered with it during the mass. And, of course, after mass was over, far earlier than it was polite to the Monsignor, he had invariably bolted down to his office.

And each time he discovered that the tape had already been changed.

The most logical explanation was an equipment malfunction. Yet Snape refused to be content with this, either. How could the same two minutes be missing from the tape right after the start of mass, even with different tapes in different positions? And Snape always made sure that the cameras were activated well before the mass, so such a consistent fault at that end could not have been possible either. No, someone was tampering with the tape for some purpose. And even though he could remember clearly seeing Potter and Granger staring at him from their pews throughout the whole of the mass with their wide, false-innocent eyes, he was certain it had something to do with them. And he was also sure that -

Snape was jolted back to the present by a loud, sharp knock on the door to the office and froze. He was not supposed to here - not on Sunday, not on the day of rest. Only Snape appreciated how there could be no rest for him. He didn't expect anyone else to understand. He should have pretended he wasn't there and, after all, who should have suspected him? He had made very sure that no one had followed him from the chapel.

Snape realized he should have tried to make no noise and convince whomever it was that there was no one there. But an obsessive instinct seemed to take hold of him and before he could stop himself, he threw all of the video equipment noisily into the locked drawer, as though it was infected with some kind of contagion.

Only when he had finished did Snape stop to consider that whoever was outside the door could not have failed to notice the racket. Even then he still considered pretending that the office was vacant but the knock came again, this time more insistently.

"Enter," said Snape, making an effort to keep his tone authoritative.

Snape's heart plunged into his stomach as the door opened and none other than Sister Umbridge walked into his office.

"Sister," he said. "I - I - I wasn't expecting - "

But Umbridge only smiled her horribly false sickly smile and walked toward him.

"Oh, dear, Severus, you oughtn't to be working on the Sabbath, you know."

"I - I - Sister, please forgive me." Snape quickly got to his feet and then almost immediately sat back down again when he decided that the height differential between himself and his superior created the wrong sort of impression altogether.

"Please - please have a seat."

Snape was unable to keep the uncharacteristic nervousness out of his voice and he could see in Sister Umbridge's eyes that she sensed it. She slowly pulled a nearby chair over to the center of the office and sat down at it methodically, as though to emphasize her comfort and ease in contrast to Snape's obvious disquiet. Yet, in spite of this, Snape still sensed she was bothered about something. There was a high color in her cheeks and a bright, almost eager look behind her hypnotically-large brown eyes.

"There's no need to worry, Headmaster," Umbridge went on, speaking in her typical, painfully slow manner. "I fully understand that, in a position such as yours, there cannot be the luxury of rest. And I understand how vexing this problem of the missing minutes on the tape must be to you."

Snape felt an icy cold penetrate to each and every synapse on his head. _How did Umbridge know? _He had told no one. Fear fired his nerves again. Had Umbridge been playing with him all this time? Had this been a test - a test that he now had failed?

"Sister, I - I - I assure that I - I had fully intended to apprise you of all details as soon as this matter was resolved, b - but as you seem to know - "

With a still horribly sweet smile on her face, Umbridge slowly shook her head.

"Once again, headmaster, your apology is most unwarranted. You have done all that could possibly have been expected of you. As a matter of fact, I have come to release you of the terrible burden that has caused this little problem."

"Y - you have?" asked Snape, struggling desperately to settle his voice.

Umbridge nodded slowly, as though addressing a child. "Indeed I have, Headmaster. I am here to arrange a transfer of pupils." Her smiled transformed into a solemn frown that suggested she was about to deliver a grim pronouncement borne of holy necessity. "You know, I think, who is responsible for this unfortunate lapse in security."

"Potter - a - and Granger?"

Snape felt a sense of relief wash over him as Umbridge nodded sagely. But almost immediately that feeling of relief was replaced by one of profound suspicion and distrust. How indeed did Umbridge know this? Snape suddenly felt himself vindicated for his decision to tell Umbridge nothing in the first place about the strange turn of events with the video camera, although now it seemed that she had known. His churning doubts came to a quick halt when he suddenly realized that Umbridge had been speaking at him again and, this time, she apparently expected an answer.

"I beg your pardon, Sister?"

Umbridge smiled sweetly and spoke even more slowly, as though Snape's failure to hear her question had been by reason of mental deficiency and not a lack of attention.

"I _said_ that the students in question will be transferred to the Ashford penitentiary. The transfer will take place this evening."

"This evening?" replied Snape, a bit dully.

"Yes, Headmaster, this evening. We don't want to give them chance to prepare a last ditch effort at escape now, do we? Here is the list of names. I trust you will find all of the signatures in order."

For the first time, Snape noticed that Umbridge had slung around her shoulder a small leather purse with a large clasp in the shape of a furry blue kitten whose smile seemed rather forced. She reached into the purse and produced a folded sheet of paper. Snape unfolded it to find the names of eight students neatly typed. He scrutinized the sheet carefully, but all of the correct signatures - from church officials, the warden of the Ashford prison, even the Home Office - seemed to be in order. He quickly held it up to the light as if to read it more closely and discovered that the sheet did indeed bear the Home Secretary's watermark.

"I assure you that I have meticulously checked the authenticity of the document myself, Headmaster."

Umbridge's tone of voice seemed non-committal but her eyes held a challenge. Snape quickly turned away from her gaze and back to the document.

"Are all of these transfers necessary?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. If you look closely, you'll see that all of the students were part of Granger's group. When one apple begins to rot, it is really very difficult to salvage the others, don't you think?"

"Of course, Sister." Snape looked at the document once more. Everything seemed to be correct, just as nothing had seemed to go amiss during the morning mass. Yet Snape was certain that the time was past when he trusted appearances. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but feel that he would rest more easily if Potter and Granger were no longer in his school. He was on the point of offering Umbridge a grudging nod when the phone on his desk rang.

He looked at it in surprise and wondered, like he had the knock on his door, whether or not he should answer it. But Umbridge said:

"Aren't you going to pick up the phone, Headmaster?"

Snape looked across at her and they locked eyes for a moment. He was sure that Umbridge's cheeks now looked quite flushed, but her expression remained calm. Something made him continue to watch her as he picked up the receiver.

"Yes?" he said, in what he hoped was a brusque tone.

"I'm sorry to trouble you, Headmaster," came the voice of the guard in the front office. "I tried to reach you in your chambers, sir, but there was no answer."

"Never mind that, Stevens," replied Snape shortly. "What is it?"

"Sister Umbridge is here to see you, sir."

"You needn't bother. She's already here."

"Sir?"

"I said 'she's already here,' Stevens, or perhaps you need to invest in hearing aid. And I'd thank you to inform me before I have any more visitors, whatever their clearance."

But Stevens was not so easily put off.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said again, his voice high and nervous, "but I've only just heard from the gate. They - wait, there she is. Wait - she's - she's gone straight in, headmaster. I hope you didn't mind; I didn't - "

But Snape heard nothing more. The receiver fell from his hand onto the desk. He felt a twitch begin in his cheek, then in his arm, and finally his body began to tremble again, just as it had so many times in recent months. Stevens' voice continued to sound from the receiver but he made no move to pick it up again. And all this time, his eyes never left those of his visitor.

"Whatever is the matter, Headmaster?" said Umbridge, still smiling. "You look as though you could do with a visit to a doctor - or perhaps a _healer_ would be a rather better choice?"

The door flung open and what little remained of the tidy, ordered world of Severus Snape came crashing to a complete halt.

There, framed in the doorway, was a second Dolores Umbridge, identical in every way to her doppelganger, down to the one-piece black habit she wore. The only difference between them was that the new Umbridge looked considerably more flustered as though she had been running very hard. There also seemed to be burn marks on each of her arms. She held a long rolled-up parchment in her hand which her double examined with intense curiosity. Following her double's gaze, she quickly tucked it underneath the folds of her robes.

The original Umbridge immediately got up from her chair, gracefully swept back her habit and gestured toward the open chair, the smile not leaving her face.

"Why, Dolores, how very nice of you to join us! Do sit down!"

Snape's knees gave way and he fell to the floor. With a shaken and blurred gaze, he managed to notice the standing Umbridge fuming like an angry rhinoceros. She pointed a bony finger, devoid of all color, alternately at Snape and her twin who continued to smile as though she was enjoying every moment of the impossible confrontation.

"Y - y - you, _don't you see?" _the newer Umbridge bellowed at Snape finally. "It's him! It must be! _It's the hound!"_

But Snape could manage no response. His teeth began to chatter. Somehow, he could feel no further surprise when the newly arrived Umbridge reached into her cloak and produced a strange long stick which she aimed at her counterpart. The latter smiled, waved and then changed before Snape's eyes into a ruffian with mangy hair and a long beard. An alien language that sounded vaguely like Latin began forming on the lips of the Umbridge with the wand but then her mangy opposite vanished completely.

The remaining Umbridge looked frantically around the office as though expecting the apparent intruder to re-appear. Her eyes finally settled on Snape who was still on his knees on the floor.

"You idiot fool!" she barked. "We've got to stop him! Get - get - " She pointed the stick at him but then drew it away in exasperation. "_I'll be back for you and your memories!"_

And with that Umbridge opened the door and ran quickly out of the office. Snape heard her calling to the guards. There were shouts of instructions and a clatter of footsteps but they quickly lost their coherence for Snape. He felt as though his brain could no longer make meaning out of sight or sound. Suddenly, he knew he had to have quiet; he had to have quiet at all costs. Everything he heard and saw seemed fall of chaos, and he just had to make that chaos go away.

Snape's wiry knees were still knocking but he managed to get to his feet and make his way to the door. His stomach oozed with nausea and he felt certain he was going to be sick but he forced the feeling down. He managed to slam the door shut, turn the lock, and draw his newly installed deadbolt firmly across. When he was satisfied that nothing and no one could enter, he collapsed panting to the floor once again, turned around to face back into his office, and found himself face-to-face with the mangy ruffian.

"Crabby old bag, isn't she?"

Snape screamed.

"Why, Severus, I don't think I've ever heard you make that sound before and that is saying something. I'd prefer it if you'd shut up though. We don't want the feline-loving freak back just yet."

Snape sunk further to the floor. "Wh - wh - what do you want with me?" he groaned.

"A few minutes of your time," replied the intruder. "I doubt we have much more. Oh, I know it's been fun, Severus, but you really have been a very bad boy. And it's high time we put Humpty Dumpty back together again, don't you think?"

"Don't get me wrong, General Kwiluxital. It's been an honor to be the first human aboard your spacecraft but I'm afraid I really must get back to Neville."

A pair of large blue eyes snapped open.

"I'm right here," came a slightly choked reply. McGonagall put a supportive arm on Neville's shoulder who was unable to restrain a sob and a tear as he took Luna's hand in his.

"What's going on? Where am I? Did the General leave already?" Luna wanted to know.

"I - I - " began Neville.

"Do you remember anything, Miss Lovegood?" asked McGonagall, leaning forward.

Luna screwed up her eyes in confusion.

"Oh, I suppose the Death Eaters attacked us, didn't they? We were in the Hall and then they were all after me. And then - oh, dear, was I hexed? I hope I didn't look any the worse for it?"

Ron cleared his throat, McGonagall seemed unable to restrain a smirk, but Neville burst into inconsolable tears and wrapped his arms around Luna where she lay in bed.

"Oh, dear, dear," said his girlfriend, running her fingers gently up his back. "Was it that bad?"

"You're a very lucky witch, Miss Lovegood," replied McGonagall.

After a few more minutes, Neville managed to pull himself together and disentangle himself from Luna. Madam Pomfrey came over to deliver her usual reprimands about Luna still needing rest but McGonagall seemed unusually dismissive even as Neville practically fell to his hands and knees in gratitude for the safe (and spotless) return of his girlfriend. Ron sensed that McGonagall had finally gotten a bit fed up with Madam Pomfrey's constant matriarchal hovering. She had been tight-lipped and obviously uneasy since a house-elf had arrived just after lunch time bringing a return note from Ginny for Ron and another longer parchment for McGonagall that Ron suspected had come from Dumbledore. He did not find himself especially surprised when McGonagall drew him away from the hospital tent and out onto the grass just a few yards in front of the forest.

"Mr. Weasley," she said in a low voice. "I feel I can be frank with you. You are no longer a child and I do not wish to hide anything from you."

Ron nodded, though he wondered what was coming next.

"I don't know what your sister told you before she left but the memory charms seem to have been part of a much larger plan, a plan that I'm afraid has been unleashed - by - well, by You-Know-Who. He seems to have returned."

Somehow Ron didn't feel very surprised at the news. He didn't think anyone less could have pulled this off. And besides, Ginny had said as much, hadn't she, the day all this had first happened? All those long months ago.

McGonagall took in a breath and went on. "I'm afraid, Mr. Weasley, that the memory charm that the Death Eaters used at Hogwarts was not the only one. There are many of them - perhaps dozens even - placed all over England, and probably in other countries as well. The only people who remember the true reality are ourselves and presumably Professor Dumbledore - though I'm not quite sure how. That's why the Death Eaters wanted to destroy the school and everyone else in it. There would be no one left alive who remembered the truth."

"So that means..." started Ron, reading the apprehensive look on McGonagall's face.

"That means," finished the deputy headmistress, "that no one in the Ministry or the Order will be able to help us - and that includes your parents and your older brothers. And we simply don't have time to go looking for their memory charms. They could be disguised as anything."

"But surely, I mean - well, we can convince them, can't we? That we're right, I mean."

McGonagall gave Ron a slightly old-fashioned look.

"As Miss Weasley tried to convince you?"

"Well..."

McGonagall nodded firmly, apparently convinced that she had made her point.

"The fact is, Mr. Weasley, Professor Dumbledore needs our help very badly. You-Know-Who is plotting something very - something awful. It will take me too long to explain right now but we need all the help we can get, and it's not going to be much. Professor Harmon is with us, of course, but most of the rest of staff..." McGonagall's voice trailed off as she looked across the lawn where Professor Trelawney, looking very much like a fish out of water outside of her incense-filled classroom, was gesticulating wildly at the clouds and talking to herself.

"Right," said Ron, as though in response. "You can count on - "

"Just a minute," said a voice behind them. Ron looked over to see Luna striding over, still dressed in her hospital gown, dragging Neville with her by the hand.

"If you're making some arrangement to stop You-Know-Who, then I ought to be involved."

McGonagall looked Luna up and down. It was obvious to Ron she did not think this was a very good suggestion.

"You're in no fit state, Miss Lovegood. You shouldn't even be out of bed! We're talking about a highly dangerous - possibly _suicidal_ mission to - "

"I'm feeling perfectly all right, thank you! And you wouldn't even be plotting this mission if I hadn't released everyone's memories!"

McGonagall continued to frown but it seemed that she did not have an easy rejoinder for Luna. Her gaze turned to Neville and grew even more skeptical. "Mr. Longbottom?"

If Ron didn't know better, he could have sworn he saw Neville puff up his chest.

"I'm not a clumsy child anymore!" he declared with a conviction that surprised Ron. "And _I've_ faced Death Eaters before! You can ask Ron; you can ask..." Neville's voice trailed off and he seemed to want to look anywhere but at his roommate. "...Harry," he finished meekly.

After a long sigh, McGonagall nodded her head.

"Very well, you three, hold out your right hands."

Slightly puzzled, but none the less willing, Ron, Luna, and Neville held out their palms to McGonagall.

"The other way," she said.

Each of them turned their palms around so that the backs of their hands were showing. McGonagall took out her wand and touched it quickly to each of their hands in turn. Ron felt an odd, tingling sensation and then his eyes widened as he saw a very small silver phoenix appear in three dimensions over his knuckles. The phoenix ruffled its feathers and turned its head to Ron before disappearing completely.

"I hereby initiate you all into the Order of the Phoenix," declared McGonagall. "I wish it had come at a better time. You won't be alone, of course. I'm going to ask all students with high Defense marks to accompany us. Mr. Finnigan and Miss Abbot aren't well enough. But Mr. Macmillan, Miss Patil, and Mr. Hall will join our group, along with Professor Harmon."

"Hall?" said Ron incredulously. "But he's a Slytherin! He's practically a Death Eater himself!"

"I think you will find that he is not, Mr. Weasley."

McGonagall's tone brooked no contradiction but Ron did not plan to give up easily.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but how can you be so sure?"

"Because he risked his life to save little David Lewis, just as Malfoy was about to hex him!"

"They could have been pretending! He could be a spy!"

"And I choose to believe he is not!" McGonagall's eyes grew very wide. "As I think I told you, Mr. Weasley, if we're going to have a pixie in a haystack's chance of stopping You-Know-Who, we can't afford to turn anyone away with the skill to help us and Mr. Hall has the top marks in his house in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Ron's cheeks flushed red but he said nothing more in reply.

"We'll stay here tonight. We've conjured enough tents to make sure everyone is comfortable. Then we leave tomorrow morning. And tell no one. I don't want a whole gang full of followers and taggers-along. We're to rendezvous with Professor Lupin in the vicinity of the small lake where the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who are hiding. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom, I know you can Apparate. Miss Lovegood, how far - "

"Oh, I wouldn't Apparate anywhere, Minerva, not if you don't want your memories snatched away from you so soon after they were returned."

McGonagall froze in mid-sentence. She, Ron, Luna, and Neville darted their eyes around to find the owner of the resonant yet gravelly voice. Ron was shocked to hear the sound of twigs snapping and branches being cleared away. He watched as McGonagall quickly drew out her wand. His own was in his hand just in time to see who had literally emerged from the forest just behind where they had been standing.

An emaciated man, in a long brown cloak that was tattered and ripped in several places stumbled toward them, his arms raised in a gesture of surrender. His face was dirt and blood-stained. He had grown a long white beard that like his mangy, disheveled hair was full of small twigs and leaves. Ron held onto his wand firmly but then the stranger's piercing blue eyes and unmistakable bent nose looked across at him. Though he had not seen him in almost a year, and could hardly restrain his surprise at the transformation of the once clean, healthy, well-kept man he remembered, Ron knew at once that he was looking into the face of Professor Andrew Nevins.


	17. The Arc Of Becoming

**Chapter 17**

**The Arc of Becoming**

Snape reached quickly into his pocket and pulled out a rosary. As his mind struggled to grasp what was going on around him, he became certain of only one thing: he was no longer facing the powers of this world. He would fight Satan's warriors the only way he knew how.

"I would suffer you not to come any closer," he hissed, holding out a wooden crucifix in the direction of the intruder. "Tell me: are you the devil himself or one of his angels?"

The intruder laughed. "Both, I shouldn't wonder. Oh, Snape, when are you are going to snap out of it?" He sighed. "Of course, it's not that simple, is it?"

"Stay where you are!"

"That might be a bit difficult when Umbridge comes back."

"How do you know my name? Of course," Snape added, before the intruder could reply. "He sees all, doesn't he? Sister Umbridge is his agent as well, isn't she? And the children?"

"Nearly right, Severus. As a matter of fact, you and I have known each other quite a long time."

"_I know no Satan!_"

At this renunciation of the Prince of Darkness, the intruder dropped his pretense of a smile. An evil venom seemed to radiate from his eyes and his words came out in an agitated hiss.

"Ah, but from what little I know of him, I think you must know a great many Satans, Severus, starting from the one you face in the mirror every morning. I shouldn't wonder that you wouldn't be very happy if you did get back your memories. You're such a big important man now. Tell me: how does it feel, whipping little children? Does it make you _powerful_, Severus? I shouldn't care very much if you rotted and died in this stinking hell, but Harry and Hermione need you to come round and remember that you're supposed to be on our side. Only then do I have any chance of getting them out of here and ending this madness."

Snape held the crucifix higher and felt a holy glow infuse his cheeks. "I will not help you, Satan. And your game has failed."

"We're wasting time!" replied the demon in exasperation. "Snape, please try to think! You always used to be so good at it. Can't you tell that Umbridge is hiding things from you? She just took a bloody great wand out of her habit, for the sake of the goddess - or God if it makes you think me less a heathen. What was all that for?"

Snape continued to hold his crucifix out in front of him. "I did not say I trusted Dolores Umbridge, Satan, and I do not have to answer to you. I should have recognized long ago that no Earthly power could have altered that tape. While we try to save young minds, you corrupt and destroy them. Still," Snape's voice grew more strident. "I suppose I should feel flattered. We must be doing important work to have attracted the attention of the Prince of Darkness himself, mustn't we? If this school is to be the battleground between heaven and hell _then so be it, Satan!"_

Footsteps started up again in the background and they seemed to be drawing closer fast. Snape forced himself to his feet and tried to fasten the already closed deadbolt shut even more firmly.

"I'm afraid that won't do much to keep them out, Severus. I'm sorry about this but since you're being so intractable, you leave me with little choice." The intruder drew a long stick out of his pocket, very similar to the one "Sister" Umbridge had used.

"I fear not your worse weapons, Satan, not so long as I have the power of right - "

"_Stupefy!_"

" - on your side," finished Sirius, as Snape slumped unconscious to the ground. He sighed then grew serious. He reached into the pocket of his cloak again and took out a small glass ball. The footsteps had stopped outside the door now and the lock was tried. Sirius knew he only had seconds to finish a complex incantation but he forced himself to concentrate as he held the ball over Snape's head and began to mumble. A loud smashing sound emitted from the door as the guards tried to break their way in. He could hear Umbridge calling out for Snape and hoped that his own whispered charm would not be heard above the racket. Finally, there were shrieking sounds from the guards and the sound of a loud explosion. The deadbolt came apart and fell into the office. Sirius knew he wouldn't have time to finish the charm. All he could hope was that he would have the chance later. He replaced the ball in his pocket but not before Umbridge broke open the door and saw him do it.

Her eyes widening, Umbridge tried to swing the door all the way open but it stopped on Snape's prone body which blocked the entranceway. Umbridge savagely kicked Snape aside and walked all the way into the office, slamming the door in the face of the incoming guards.

"What did you do to him?" she demanded.

"I was tempted, but I'm afraid the effect will only be temporary."

Both Sirius and Umbridge quickly had their wands out and aimed at one another. They slowly circled around opposite sides of the office as though choreographing a strange dance.

"_Expelliarmus!" _Umbridge cried suddenly.

The light from her wand hit Sirius on the chest, but he only smiled and continued to walk around in the circle, his wand still in hand.

"What manner of creature are you?" she hissed.

"Don't you know? Or didn't your boss tell you? It was he who unleashed the forces that made it possible for me to come back."

Umbridge's eyes glazed over with a fanatical expression. "He has been misunderstood by generations of wizard-kind. He only wants to raise the dead from their sleep."

"The dead aren't sleeping, Dolores, and since your friend has started playing with what he doesn't understand, they're not resting easily either."

"A temporary effect."

"The beginning of a catastrophe that will end everything - living and dead."

"You must stop interfering."

"I have no intention of doing so. I am going to stop you, and you cannot stop me."

Umbridge's eyes narrowed. "We'll see about that. But I wonder: what is it you're hiding in your pocket?"

"What is it you're hiding under your cloak?"

Umbridge was fast but Sirius was faster.

"_Acc - _"

_"Accio Parchment!" _he cried out.

Umbridge screamed, her own summoning charm still not yet completed, as her outer cloak flew open and away, ricocheting against the window behind Snape's desk before falling into a heap on the floor. The long parchment, which she had smuggled out from her office at Hogwarts, also sprung out from where she had been concealing it inside the elastic loop of her underwear and flew into Sirius's outstretched hand. Repressing a grimace at the grotesque sight before him, Sirius neatly took the parchment in his hand, briefly waved, and then disappeared.

The door to the office opened again and three of the guards burst inside. In a speechless instant, they took in both Snape's still unconscious body and Umbridge standing in the middle of the office, dressed in only her undergarments and the headpiece to her habit.

"_FOOLS!" _she bellowed.

"Hello, Ron," said Nevins. "Neville, Luna."

"Andrew?" said McGonagall incredulously. "B - but I don't understand?"

"It will take a very long time to explain, Minerva, but for now, I'd be very grateful if you could give me something to eat and drink and somewhere to sit down."

"Y - yes, of course, oh, my word."

Ron looked around to find that a much larger crowd of students and staff were gathering around them. As only the older students remained at the school, each of them had studied under Nevins the previous year. Ron could see that they, like he, were still hard pressed to associate the weak, thin, disheveled wizard who had just walked out of the Forbidden Forest with their former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Some of them exchanged shy greetings with him that he was indulgent in returning, but McGonagall quickly shooed most of them away. Madam Pomfrey, whom someone had alerted, came running out of the hospital tent and she, McGonagall, and Ron quickly guided Nevins inside.

By the time Ginny had woken that morning, the sun had already climbed one-third of its way through the hazy sky over the village. Once awake she had felt slightly groggy, as though she had slept for too long. When she got to her feet, she had also realized she was extremely stiff. It took her a moment to remember that it had only been the previous day that she had wrestled with Malfoy over the Quidditch pitch, and then later on she had fought for her life and gone running around the school into the bargain.

But in spite of her stiffness, Ginny had been determined not to stay resting in bed any longer. There was much to do, starting with finding out where she was and how she had gotten there.

After her confrontation with Dumbledore the previous night, Ginny had eaten a little dinner, a curious mix of a strange kind of meat with vegetables that seemed equally unfamiliar, but nonetheless very delicious. After she had calmed down, she had told the headmaster as best as she could what had happened the night before in the school. Dumbledore had listened patiently: he had been clearly attentive and had asked few questions. Ginny wasn't sure whether there had been something in the food but, after that, she had begun to feel very sleepy. She had been escorted by the ever chipper Dobby and several other elves to a stick and pebble hut all her own where she had woken that morning.

Her bed was merely a makeshift collection of leaves and feathers that seemed to be glued together by the same principle through which the stick and pebble huts had been erected, but it was soft and, although placed directly on top of the cool, damp earth, somehow very warm. When Ginny had awoken, she had found a kind of potted basin already full of warm water. She had scooped the water up in her fingers and wetted her face with it to clear the cobwebs. On a small stand at the side of the bed, she found that someone had placed several new sets of clothes, all hand woven. The outer garments were simple one-piece robes that seemed put together from bits of earthen-colored cloth. When she had put on the robes, Ginny had discovered that they were cool and comfortable against her skin.

Ginny had then looked around the hut thoughtfully for a moment. As soon as she had found what seemed like the exit, she had made her way quickly out into the middle of a muddy avenue. An elf - either male or female Ginny still couldn't tell - had looked to be carrying a basket of laundry down the avenue. As soon as the elf had spotted Ginny, she or he had let out a little scream and dropped the clothes immediately. Ginny had bent down to help the elf pick up the clothes but then a good dozen other elves had emerged from all of the tents around to come to the rescue and pick up the clothes themselves. Sensing that it was unbecoming for a guest to help with any manner of chores, Ginny had then gone looking for Dumbledore. She hadn't taken long to discover that her small hut was adjacent to the main one at the center of the village. Hoping that she wasn't violating elfin protocol even further, Ginny had walked gingerly across the green grass in front of the hut and cautiously stepped inside.

Dumbledore had been sitting inside much as she had left him the night before, alone with three torches still standing up from the ground in front of him. The large swaths of cloth that were draped across the outside of the tent blocked out most of the light, though it didn't seem to bother Dumbledore who appeared to merely sitting in thought.

Ginny had wondered whether she had been interrupting anything but Dumbledore had seemed quite happy to beckon her inside. Ginny's initial pleasure at finding Dumbledore so accessible had then been marred by his failure to answer her questions; all he had said was that Professor Lupin would be returning later that afternoon (from where Ginny did not know) with new information and it would be best to talk then. Dumbledore had not said as much but Ginny gathered that Lupin was still using some of the same modified Polyjuice disguise he and Dumbledore had used the previous year to outsmart Voldemort in order to spy on some of the Death Eaters. Ginny had also suspected that Dumbledore was delaying her until he could come up with a set of reasonable excuses as to why he hadn't been able to make any further progress.

The headmaster had succeeded in deflecting some of her worry, however, by producing an owl from Ron which he had received earlier that morning. Ginny was overjoyed to know that he and the others were safe, and had quickly penned a reply, which she had then sent with several of the elves who were helping with the damage that had destroyed the school. Dumbledore had also sent a long letter to McGonagall.

With the news that Ron was safe, much of the urgency had gone out of Ginny and she made her way out of Dumbledore's tent, whose darkness seemed somewhat oppressive to her. Ginny had returned to find her own hut ringed by a circle of curious children, each looking up at her with wide curious eyes and long noses. Dobby had quickly reappeared and insisted that Ginny eat some breakfast. She had felt surprised at how appealing this idea had sounded. Dobby had left her with the children as he cooked and they had wasted no time in examining her robes, ankles, fingers and anything else they could get their tiny hands on, although they still seemed quiet and awed as they did so. Dobby hadn't seemed to take any notice of this, and had happily gone on preparing the breakfast. He had only shooed some of the children away when they had congregated on Ginny's lap after she sat down. When she had finished the breakfast, Dobby had contented himself with playing the role of translator. At this point, the quiet faces had become very talkative. The exchange had helped time to pass very quickly for Ginny. By the time they had finished, Ginny had learned several words in Elfin with mixed success, and much to the amusement of her audience.

But Ginny had not soon forgotten Dumbledore's promise: she had made her excuses to leave as soon as she had spotted Professor Lupin, looking very mangy and haggard, step silently into Dumbledore's hut. Dumbledore had then beckoned both of them to a secluded spot on the edge of the grassy village. The elves had seemed content to leave them to their meeting, but it was not until they were far away from the village that Dumbledore had deemed it safe to talk. Lupin had reported on his surveillance of goblin groups, many of whom were apparently working for the Death Eaters, and the flow of activity to and from Voldemort's base in the secluded lake. It didn't seem to Ginny that he had learned very much for the obvious toll it had taken on his body, which seemed to Ginny especially pale and unhealthy. She had restrained herself for as long as she'd been able, but now the questions were just too many.

"You're planning to rendezvous with McGonagall and the others then?" she said to Lupin, who nodded. "Then why can't I go, too? I have more stake in this than anyone!"

"I'm afraid that's precisely why we cannot let you go, Ginny," replied Dumbledore.

"If I learned nothing else from my trip," explained Lupin, "I learned that Voldemort has placed a very high premium on finding you, Ginny. He's recruited an enormous network of goblins to comb the forests all over Scotland and Northern England. If you go, it will make the mission far more dangerous."

Ginny sighed. "But don't you see? I'm his weakness! His feelings for me are what kept him from using the Memory Charm. Otherwise, I would never have known what he was up to and I'd never have been able to get everyone's memories back!"

Lupin frowned at this. His expression cleared into one of quiet understanding when Dumbledore said:

"Draco Malfoy is channeling Voldemort, Remus. He said as much to Ginny. And it seems he has much of his old powers back."

"I see," said Remus, sighing, "well that explains quite a bit."

"So now you see why I've got to go!" Ginny kept on. "I'm not afraid."

"Your courage is not and will never be in question, Ginny," replied Dumbledore, "but I'm afraid that Remus is right. We cannot afford to have you fall into the wrong hands."

Ginny sighed again in exasperation. "And what if the goblins or the Death Eaters find me here? Are you going to endanger this whole village to keep me safe? They're defenseless, do you know that?"

Dumbledore and Lupin exchanged a quick glance, but not so quick that Ginny did not notice it.

"I'm well aware what their defenses are," replied Dumbledore, "and I think you give them far too little credit. They have magical abilities of which Voldemort himself would be envious. But I confess they would have little chance against a Death Eater attack and believe me, Ginny, I would be the last to want Voldemort anywhere near their villages. But the elves have learned nothing if not how to conceal themselves. You are aware, of course, that it is impossible to get into the village without a Portkey of their own design. Apparation in and out of the village by wizards or witches is also impossible. Only the elves themselves can move about in an unrestricted manner, just as they can move in and out of Hogwarts. There are also many magical wards that neither I nor, I assure you, Voldemort can fully understand. That is why I must remain here also. Voldemort will have made it a point to be very sensitive to my magical presence after I succeeded in deceiving him last year as I'm sure he is to yours as well. If we are to have any hope of defeating him, Ginny, before it is too late, we must remain here and plan, and there is much you still have to tell me."

"I told you everything I know!"

"Ah," Dumbledore raised a finger. "But I am very interested in the things that you _didn't _say. You said that Voldemort showed tremendous reflexes on his broomstick on the Quidditch pitch and then again in the Reserve Potions room. You say he attempted to dodge your," Dumbledore paused diplomatically, "_hexes_ by flattening himself on the floor?"

"Well...yes, and he could crawl along the ceiling and walls like a spider, not to mention absorb about thirty hexes thrown at him in the Great Hall."

Dumbledore looked across at Lupin and smiled congenially. "Do you see, my friend?"

Lupin looked at Ginny curiously. "He did not try to fly?"

"_Fly? _You mean," she turned to Dumbledore, "you mean like you and he did in the Original Room last summer, when you turned into all those other - er, _animals_?"

"That's right," Dumbledore replied implacably.

"Well, no," replied Ginny. "I don't think he needed to, though."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, and then turned to Lupin. "What do you think, Remus?"

"I'm afraid I don't agree, Ginny," said Lupin after a moment's pause. "From what you've told us, he could have gained the advantage over you much earlier in the battle if he had flown."

"Which suggests that he doesn't have all his powers back yet," said Dumbledore. He formed a triangle with his fingers and moved it reflectively to his mouth.

"Well," said Ginny, after it seemed that neither Lupin nor Dumbledore were interested in speaking up further, "now that I've finished being useful here, can I go with you?"

"No, Ginny." Lupin put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's too dangerous. For all of us."

Ginny felt no less exasperated, but she could see from the expression on Lupin's face that he was not about to give in.

"So you're going to defeat Voldemort and save the world with my brother, Professor McGonagall, and a few other Hogwarts students?"

"I'd rather that than an army full of Aurors who don't have possession of their memories," replied Lupin wryly, "besides, this is how we've always done it." He and Dumbledore exchanged an excruciating smile.

"Well," said Ginny, sighing yet one more time. "I hope you're right about - "

Ginny stopped talking as Lupin tightened his grip on her shoulder and made a motion for her to remain silent. Dumbledore's smile faded also and he looked up at something behind Ginny. Ginny herself quickly swung back to see an elf walking toward them. She noticed immediately that he was not naked like most of the other elves but wore a long cloak that looked like it had been made from stucked-together crow's feathers. On its head was a small cap which looked like an enlarged representation of a crow's beak. The elf had not yet reached Dumbledore and Lupin when both bowed deeply. Remembering how she had been admonished the night before for trying to bow before the two village elders, Ginny hesitated for a moment, but then she felt Lupin tap her shoulder. She gently bowed herself, wondering what made this elf exempt from the customary guest-host etiquette.

"_Twunchay Ne Twunchay Chai_," said the elf, and bowed to Dumbledore in return.

"_Ose_," replied Dumbledore, bowing again.

The elf turned and left.

"The high priest has informed us that we have a visitor," said Dumbledore.

"Who?" Ginny asked, slightly baffled.

"Only one sort of visitor would come announced by the priest and not the elders," said Dumbledore. "'The One Who Walks Yet Does not Wake.' Sirius."

Madam Pomfrey had conjured a new set of canopies and surrounded the bed where Nevins now sat. He still looked haggard and pale but after some food and drink, a bit of color had returned to suffuse his cheeks. His eyes were bloodshot, as though he hadn't slept in days, but they were still bright and alert and darted back and forth among his interlocutors. With his thinned face and crooked nose, Nevins looked like a hawk scanning the earth for his minute prey.

Ron had still felt surprised when McGonagall had included him in her small circle of listeners along with Harmon, Luna, and Neville. But he also realized that her attitude toward him had changed dramatically ever since she had received the parchment from Dumbledore describing their daunting mission. Part of Ron told himself that he deserved it and, after all, with the state of the castle, it seemed that his school days had come to an effective end. Yet Ron remembered a time when he and his friends would have given anything to be initiated as full-fledged members of the Order of the Phoenix, the privilege now came under such grim circumstances that Ron felt as though a burden rather than a privilege had descended upon him. Perhaps that was what his mother had realized when she had fought to preserve the last lingering years of his childhood even as he had wished for nothing more than to rush through them.

Nevins took one last sip of a special Pepperup Potion Madam Pomfrey had developed for him, cleared his throat slightly, and began to speak. His voice was gravelly again to begin with but after a few words it e again took on the smoothness Ron remembered from his days as Nevins' student.

"Goodness me, Counselo," he said, seeming to notice Harmon for the first time. "They've got you here as well now, have they? You're my successor, I take it?"

Harmon's face clouded over. "Not exactly, Andrew. I teach Potions."

Nevins frowned in incomprehension for a moment but then his own features darkened. "Oh, dear."

"You don't remember then - you don't even know!" Ron realized. "The false memories!"

"No, Ron," said Nevins. "That's how I've come to be here now. You see, my memory was never altered in the first place."

"But _how_?" asked McGonagall. "Andrew, _everyone_ was affected! Not just us here at Hogwarts: the Ministry, the Aurors, the _Prophet _- and from what Dumbledore just told me, they still don't have their memories back!"

"Not everyone, Minerva." Nevins sat up, ignoring Madam Pomfrey's restraining hand on his shoulder. "I'm all right, Poppy," he said assertively. "There must be two dozen of those memory balls," he explained, "all over England and beyond. You-Know-Who made sure to put them where it mattered most: the government, the media, this school and, of course, he'd have made sure to put one near the Burrow." He looked briefly at Ron before turning his gaze back to McGonagall. "But not everywhere. I was outside of the fields - all of them.

"After last year, I wanted to get as far away from the wizarding world as possible, you see. I found myself a place far away on the moors where everything sinks into the mud except my charmed house and vegetable garden. And they did not place any Memory Charms there. I don't suppose they figured me much of a threat and I wasn't." Nevins ended his sentence with a slight note of bitterness. "It's not very easy to be one voice in a wilderness of ignorance."

"But how did you find out?" asked McGonagall.

"I still kept getting _The Prophet_, a day late, usually, mind, and costing me extra silver for the bigger owl treats. It was then that I realized things weren't right at all. At first, I thought they were misprints: it was only little things after all. Most of the main facts were usually right. Then they ran an article about how Dumbledore was trying to get Muggle-borns to come to Hogwarts. I thought it must be some sort of joke. But then they would say other wrong things, and the facts kept getting more and more distorted. I thought of owling a letter of indignation but something made me stop - my Auror instinct, I suppose. There was something altogether too sinister about the whole thing. It's a good thing I didn't send that letter, of course: it would have given me away."

"So then what did you do?" asked Ron.

"I wasn't sure what to do; I felt a bit helpless. For a while, I thought of just getting on with my retirement and letting it all sort itself out. But that didn't rest easily on my conscience for long. I finally decided to make a trip to London and that was when my problems really began."

"How so?" McGonagall frowned.

"I got caught in the memory fields, didn't I? As soon as I Apparated into the Ministry, I forgot all about why I'd gone to London. I still had the keys to my old office and I just went up to work, thinking I'd never retired from being an Auror in the first place. Everyone else thought it, too, so it didn't seem strange at all. I slept in my office each night, somehow managing to convince myself I was between flats or some such nonsense. It's ridiculous what the mind will make up to fill in the holes of the truth. The whole charade went on for weeks." Nevins let out a short, mirthless laugh.

"How did you get out of it?" asked Harmon.

Nevins frowned. "Little things began to bother me; I still had the keys to my old house on Dartmoor, for one thing. And I suppose it must have been my training again; things didn't add up. In the back of my mind, I knew that something was wrong. I'd always taken trips out into the countryside to clear my head whenever there'd been a particularly thorny problem. I took myself out into the woods - back near the Forest of Dean. I remember walking through the forest when suddenly it all came back to me like a flash - like waking up from a dream. Looking back, I suppose I must have walked out of one of the memory fields again."

"What did you do next?" asked Neville.

"I went back to my cottage and had a good think. By this time, I had a pretty good idea that one of the mass charms we all used to fear the Death Eaters might learn to develop in the First War had been put into action. Of course, I knew it had to be You-Know-Who. I hadn't thought he could come back so soon but there really wasn't anyone else who could have done anything on this kind of scale. I knew I had to warn someone but who? And how could I avoid falling under the spell of the Memory Charms again?

"I finally decided to Apparate back to London but this time I charmed my owl to find me with a letter if I wasn't back within three days. I was fairly sure the Memory Charms couldn't affect them. Sure enough, I ended up like a zombie again and then the letter arrived. I was extremely suspicious, I don't mind telling you, but it seemed I'd told the poor soul to keep sending me charmed copies of the things if I didn't come back at once, so finally I decided to go where it was telling me and I found I had my memories back again. I was at pains to know what to do at that point but I knew that something very sinister was going on. I decided I had to go back to the Ministry and warn them somehow, but how to hold onto my memories? The only thing for it was a bit of research. I nursed my owl back to health; its beak had been all but done in from trying to tap on the window of my office telling me to come back. I still kept quite a selection of old books in my trunk - "

"Oh, you, too," said Luna, seeming to take interest in the conversation for the first time. "Mine's _charmed_, you know. My father did it for me. I - "

"Thank you, Miss Lovegood," said McGonagall shortly, her customarily severe frown returning momentarily.

"Yes, well," said Nevins, not seeming disturbed about the interruption, "I managed to find the history behind them, made some memory balls myself, did some tests on my house cat, St. Theresa, and came to the conclusion - "

Luna clapped her hands together loudly. "_I _should have thought of that!" she declared. "Cats can _read_. Did you know that, Ronald?" Luna went on quickly, sparing Ron the need to reply. "Shakespeare gets so excited over a good book he'll tear it to pieces if I don't watch out. I wish I'd have thought of that. Then I could have saved you the trouble of being my experiment."

"_What?"_

"Yes, that's right," said Nevins quickly, before the exchange could continue further. "Anyhow, after doing a lot of tests on poor St. Theresa, I could see there was a flaw in their arrangements, but only one flaw, and some very nasty failsafes."

"Such as?" prompted Harmon.

"Apparation for one thing: if you Apparate into another area still under a memory field - and I think it safe to assume You-Know-Who's hideout qualifies, your memories will be absorbed by the field. In your case, you'd be right back where you started from. Same goes for the Floo network. And as for the Knight Bus, well - they'd have made sure to place a memory ball there, wouldn't they? And the Hogwarts Express. That way, they could be sure to trap people even when they traveled."

"So that's why when we all went home for Christmas, we didn't get our old memories back," said Ron.

"Exactly, Ron," said Nevins. "The memory ball at Hogwarts couldn't hold your memories from that distance, so as soon as you arrived back at the Burrow, your memories were transferred to another device probably not far from your home. But it seems the memory balls are designed only to trap the memories of newcomers entering by conventional means - floo, Apparation, Portkey perhaps, but old-fashioned walking it turns out, well, given the distances involved, it didn't seem that anyone would attempt it. But I did."

"You _walked_ back to London?" asked McGonagall incredulously.

"I took a Muggle train for part of the way, actually," said Nevins, "but I did do a fair bit of walking, yes. I made it into the city, across the Muggle Underground, and back to my office, and I still remembered who I was and everything that had happened. The signal on the new Memory Charm didn't register my entry into its field. I immediately set up an appointment with the Minister. I received it, of course - I still have some influence, Order of Merlin, First Class and all that rubbish."

"I suppose he didn't believe you," said Ron.

"Worse." Nevins let out an ironic chuckle. "I was halfway through the conversation when I started to see the signs. I could tell it was Imperius. It seems You-Know-Who isn't taking any chances."

McGonagall went very pale. "The Minister... Fudge... _under the Imperius curse_?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Father's known about it for years," said Luna dismissively. "It was The Weird Sisters who did it. That's why he never went ahead and banned their albums. I'm surprised none of you read, you know."

This time, everyone chose to ignore her.

"But how did you _know_?" asked McGonagall.

"I was an Auror for a very long time, Minerva," Nevins replied. "Believe me, there are signs. Of course, after that, I was a marked man. Fudge appeared to dismiss me lightly but the next day, no one in the Auror division remembered who I was. An owl tried to find me with an incineration potion and I decided I'd best leave London the way I came. I felt sure they would try to catch me in my home, either by making sure to plant a memory ball this time or simply by eliminating someone who had already been collectively forgotten, so the only choice left for me was to make my way here. I did my best with Muggle transport again but I didn't have many of their coins. I eventually got thrown off one of their trains just over the Scottish border. The rest of the way I walked. I arrived about a week ago hoping to speak to Dumbledore and quickly found that Umbridge was in charge. I laid low in the forest and this morning I saw the school burned down. I suspected there might have been some sort of insurrection and eavesdropped on your conversations from my hiding place. When I was satisfied you had your memories back, I came out."

There was a long pause. Everyone looked at Nevins expectantly as though they did not realize he had finished his account. McGonagall still seemed in shock from hearing that Fudge had been put under the Imperius, but Ron found himself more troubled with what he had already taken to be the disturbing implications of Nevins' saga.

"So... we can't Apparate to You-Know-Who's hideout," he said, "and we can't rendezvous with Professor Lupin?"

"You can rendezvous with Remus all right," replied Nevins, "but I'm afraid he'll have to wait for you some while. It takes several weeks to walk from here to the Lake District. Trust me, I know."

"_Several weeks?" _echoed Ron incredulously. "By that time, You-Know-Who will have done his worst!"

"It's either that or you'll get there forgetting why you went and I don't think you'd be much help in that case."

McGonagall looked back thoughtfully between Ron and Nevins for a moment. "I can't believe it's the only way," she finally said, "but if it is, then I don't see that we have much choice. I'd better send another message to Dumbledore. Get some rest, please, Andrew. You three - " she pointed at Ron, Neville, and Luna, " - no word of this to anyone, understood?"

Ron, Neville, and Luna all nodded, each very much aware that they had not earned McGonagall's trust easily.

"I think we'd better clear off ourselves," said Harmon, after McGonagall had left. "Professor Nevins needs rest."

They all turned to leave, nodding acknowledgements to Nevins, but before Ron was out of the tent, Nevins took hold of his arm.

"Wait, Ron," he said.

Neville looked back curiously for a moment but Ron nodded at him to go on.

"You need rest, Professor," said Madam Pomfrey who still stood over his bed, a firmness in her tone.

"Just a few moments, Poppy, if you don't mind excusing us."

Madam Pomfrey looked disapprovingly at Nevins but then pulled at the canopy surrounding Nevins' bed and disappeared, leaving him and Ron alone in the small tent within a tent.

"I'm sorry about Harry - and Hermione, of course," said Nevins quietly as soon as Madam Pomfrey had left.

Ron felt a chill run up his spine. He wished Nevins hadn't said that. Ron hadn't much time to think with everything that had happened since the previous night and now, concentrating on saving the world seemed more than enough to have to face without being reminded of the unknown fate of his closest friends. But he continued to hold the gaze of his former teacher.

"I don't know them as well as you, of course," Nevins went on, "but Harry and I faced quite a lot of demons together last year and I know that whatever he has or hasn't remembered, he has the wits and nerve to get out of them. I'm sure the same could be said for Hermione. And for you, too, Ron. I couldn't help overhearing what you did in Gryffindor Tower." Nevins smiled, almost reflectively. "I imagine you have doubts about yourself but, believe me, I've worked with a lot of brave people my life, and there aren't many who'd be better off saving the world than you."

Ron nodded, though he still wished Nevins would stop talking. An uncomfortable lump had started to form in his throat. It grew only more persistent as Nevins continued.

"And I know that whatever happens, Ron, your parents are going to be very proud of you. You've already done much that this old man never managed to."

"You're wrong about that, sir," said Ron, shaking his head, and swallowing the lump away. "We'd have been lost if you hadn't turned up just now."

Nevins smiled again. Perhaps it was his features, but there always seemed something ironic about the way he did it. "I'm very good at getting away, at least, and this time, that stood me in good stead."

Ron hesitated for a moment. "Are you coming with us?" he asked. "I mean - if you wanted to stay here, I'm sure everyone would understand. You've done enough already."

But Nevins shook his head. "Rest assured, Ron, fear will give me all the strength I need on our journey. I'm far too much of a coward to sit idly by while the world comes to an end."

Nevins and Ron looked at each other for a moment longer. Ron found himself suddenly glad that Nevins would be along and glad he had said the things he did. He had the feeling he was going to need to remember those words.

"You'd better get some rest, Professor," he finally said, getting to his feet.

"I shan't argue anymore." Nevins laid his head back on the pillow, the alert, hyper-sensitive expression finally fading from his face. "You, too, though, Ron. If I'm right about this, we have a very long journey ahead of us."

Ron nodded, waited until Nevins had closed his eyes, and then got up to leave the tent.

It seemed that the entire village had gathered to watch as about a dozen elves, all with graying hair in their ears, and all dressed in the same strange feathered garment, slowly lit patches of green grass on the sacred ground in front of Dumbledore's tent. They used the same long stick-like torches Dobby had carried with him the night before. After each step, a few blades of grass began to smolder and the elves would move on to the next spot. Though it had rained earlier in the morning and Ginny could see that the ground was still moist, the flames had little difficulty catching on the grass, but neither did the fire spread. It continued to burn the grass in place as though lighting a set of small candles.

The priests had not yet finished when Ginny could see that with the flames in the grass they had drawn an equilateral triangle about five meters high and wide. She had no idea what it meant but something about it made her shudder. She looked over at Dumbledore but found only a solemn but impassive expression on his face.

With the triangle completed, the elves moved back away and stood six on each of the sides that met at the triangle's vertex at the closest point to the hut. An open side faced Ginny, Dumbledore, and Lupin where they stood just outside the grass. The other elves all stood away from the priests on either side. No one stood behind or next to the three humans.

There was still no sound. The elves seemed to be waiting for something to happen. Ginny felt a distinct pressure build up in her head, starting from the bridge of her nose, as though her sinuses were tightening. A flock of small birds in the valley just behind the village began to cry out and swoop low as though a thunderstorm was approaching, yet the skies were still clear and blue. A sudden gust of wind blew up and Ginny winced as dirt from the ground flew at her face. She couldn't help but think it had nothing to do with the weather.

And there he was suddenly. Ginny found herself too surprised to gasp as Sirius appeared in the center of the triangle, his robes never looking more tattered, and his hair and now full beard especially unkempt. He looked almost blankly out toward them for a moment and then broke into a funny grin and walked briskly across the grass, stepping over the low wall of flame, and shaking the bottom of his robes to douse any fire. He seemed to tread toward them with deliberate nonchalance, as though eager to dismiss all of the ritual circumstance that had surrounded his reappearance. But even as he did so, there was something false about it: it was as though he was a fraud trying to imitate how the real Sirius would have appeared.

"It's good to see you again, Ginny," he said as he approached her. "I hope you are all right."

"I'm - _fine_."

Sirius said nothing more but gestured for them to retreat to the field they had come from. The elves continued to say nothing but watched after their retreat. As they walked away from the village, Ginny could not help a quick glance back but immediately regretted doing so: many pairs of eyes remained glued on them and all were slightly fearful. Ginny couldn't help but feel that they appreciated what Sirius had really become far more than she did.

They were not far out of the village when Sirius motioned for them to stop.

"I haven't got time to stay long. I've upset the apple cart a bit and I think Harry and Hermione might be in danger, along with some of the other Muggle-borns. I need to get back as soon as possible, but I had to give you this."

Ginny noticed for the first time that Sirius carried a long parchment in his hand which he handed to Dumbledore, who took it from him as one might catch hold of a poker that has just been thrust into a fire.

"Open it, Albus," said Sirius, "you'll find it reveals a great deal."

Looking back to Sirius but saying nothing, Dumbledore unrolled the parchment. Ginny joined Lupin in looking over his shoulder. Dumbledore nodded solemnly and Lupin moved his jaw around. It was clear they knew what it meant but even looking at it, Ginny felt none the wiser. To her the parchment contained only one thing: a drawing of a triangle inscribed in a pentagon. A circle was drawn from the triangle to a larger area just above both of the other shapes.

"You took this from them?" asked Lupin.

Sirius grinned. "Dolores Umbridge's prized possession. The expression on her face made it all worthwhile."

Ginny had the sense there was something else Sirius wasn't saying, but Lupin and Dumbledore seemed too interested in the diagram to pay attention to him.

"It confirms what I thought," said Dumbledore finally.

"At least now we know we what we have to do, then," said Sirius eagerly.

Lupin and Dumbledore seemed far more apprehensive, however.

"I would say it rather complicates things, Sirius," suggested Lupin.

"I'm afraid I'm inclined to agree with Remus," said Dumbledore. "Still, it provides us with a possible solution, and we did not have any firm course of action before."

"Excuse me," said Ginny. "Perhaps someone would like to tell me what this means?"

"It is a representation," said Dumbledore quickly, as though afraid Sirius or Lupin would break in ahead of him. "The triangle, or nexus, is a doorway to the other world, like the one you have just seen Sirius step through. I suspect that Voldemort has found the magic to conjure these doorways; that is how he banished the Muggle-borns."

"And the pentagon?"

"The pentrax frame, an energy source," said Lupin. "There are life energies all around us: in the air, in everything we see. Voldemort obviously plans to harness these to create a massive triangle and punch a hole, if you like, into the other world, the world beyond the gateway."

"His attempt to build up these energies is what has made the whole thing so unstable," added Dumbledore. "But that will be nothing to what will happen if he tries to break through the barrier. It will be like letting all the air out of a balloon."

"And we'll be on the inside," said Lupin ruefully.

"So - so this pentrax frame thing wasn't around when he conjured the triangles before?" asked Ginny, trying to understand.

"Around, yes," replied Sirius, "but somewhere else, I imagine, wherever he's got the veil, probably in that hiding place at the bottom of the lake. He could conjure the triangles in other places but not with so much energy. He's probably got the whole thing in some sort of massive chamber. At the present moment, he can only send small things through to his bubble universe by conjuring temporary gateways represented here by the nexus. He's probably constructed a pentrax with the aim of pushing the opening out much further."

"So what does the circle do?"

"From what I was able to find in records the Ministry tried to conceal," replied Lupin, "the circle is called the Arc of Becoming. It's a frequency of spiritual energy that returns to the gateway every few months or so."

"It's a bit like an orbit," Sirius went on. "The world beyond the gateway - my world - flows in and out of resonance with yours. When the resonance is at its strongest, it becomes easiest to travel back and forth. The last passing, last September, was when I first moved to back into this world and came to Hogwarts. It's difficult to determine precisely when the next passing will come but theoretically it's possible to calculate with the right magical knowledge. I expect Voldemort wasn't fully prepared then but I'll imagine he will be next time."

"And we've just been trying to catch up to the hidden terrors Voldemort has probably spent decades trying to decipher," added Dumbledore with a sigh.

"So he's waiting for the arc to come back to punch a big opening through the gateway and connect the two worlds?" asked Ginny.

"Yes," said Lupin.

"And we don't know when that will be?" asked Ginny.

"Soon, I fear," replied Dumbledore. "But not right away. There are signs."

"And now that we know for sure that this is the way he's doing it, we'll be able to stop him," said Sirius triumphantly.

But again Dumbledore and Lupin didn't seem so sure. They looked even more uneasy when Ginny asked how. But Sirius beamed.

"Think of the arc like a rubber band, Ginny," he said. "Pull on it and let it go and it will snap back toward your finger. That's what Voldemort wants to do: pull the two worlds together so he can punch a hole between them, but give it too much force and what happens?"

"The rubber band will break. And then the worlds will move further apart?"

"Exactly! Not to mention a very nasty feedback inside Voldemort's little power grid."

"But how would we do that? Some kind of massive hex?"

All three wizards had gone very blank.

"Muggle eckel-tronics?" Ginny tried.

Still there was silence. Finally, Lupin opened his mouth once or twice as if to speak, and then closed it again.

"I think we should tell her," said Sirius. "She has a right to know, don't you think? She's as much mixed up in all this as either of you, probably much more so. And she may yet be there at the end."

"Ginny is not going to leave this village until all of this is over," declared Dumbledore with certainty.

But Sirius returned his expression of authority with the smile of a Marauder. "Never underestimate a Gryffindor, Albus. We often find trouble before it finds us."

"I'm well aware of that, Sirius, having been in Gryffindor myself, but we'll all be in more than a little trouble if she doesn't remain here."

"She doesn't have to know, Sirius," said Lupin, stepping forward and looking his old friend in the eye. "Some things are best left untouched."

"Know what?" demanded Ginny, indignant that the older wizards were talking about her as though she wasn't there.

Sirius was looking at Lupin now, too. "Dumbledore I expected but I'm a bit disappointed in you, Remus, you know. I thought a teacher never values ignorance."

Lupin turned his gaze to the ground.

"Then _I _will tell you, Ginny."

"No, Sirius!" said Lupin sharply, raising his head again.

But Sirius ignored him and turned only to Ginny, his eyes staring deeply into hers.

"The energy is a life energy," he explained, "it's all around us, as Remus just said. Voldemort has found a way to harness it but it's the not the only way. Why am I beyond the gateway and not you, Ginny?"

Lupin sighed heavily. Dumbledore remained silent but continued to look daggers at Sirius.

"Because... you died?"

"What is death? The transfer of a life energy from one world to the next. And a transfer of energy inside the pentrax would be very great indeed."

"So in order to stop Voldemort, someone has to _die_ inside that thing?"

"At precisely the right moment."

"So we can kill him and stop his plans at the same instant!"

Ginny surprised herself at the hate she found in her own words, but she did not turn away from Sirius who grinned broadly in return.

"You seem to be forgetting one thing, Sirius," said Dumbledore, a little soberly, as though mourning the cat that had just been let out of its bag. "Voldemort's soul will not transfer, not after the curse I put on him. It will remain in his body when he dies."

"Well, one of his Death Eater cronies then," said Sirius dismissively. "They're bound to be in there helping him. I'm afraid I'll have to leave the details to you. I need to get back to St. Brutus's immediately."

And with that, Sirius turned and briskly walked back toward the center of the village where the triangle he had stepped out of continued to burn and the elves maintained their vigilant silence. Dumbledore, Lupin, and Ginny were forced to walk briskly to keep up with him. Her shorter legs not carrying her as far, Ginny quickly moved into a trot and ended up a few paces ahead of Lupin and Dumbledore. They reached the edge of the triangle and the elves parted to let Sirius through, but before he stepped back inside, Ginny called out:

"Sirius, wait!"

Sirius stopped walking for a moment and turned around to face her. The elves also turned and stared almost hypnotically in her direction.

"Is Harry all right?"

"He will be if I can get to him quickly, Ginny," replied Sirius. He turned around to step into the triangle but Ginny's next words made him stop again:

"He doesn't remember me, does he?"

Sirius did not turn around to face Ginny as quickly this time but when he did, his eyes seemed to burn with the intensity of Professor Janus, sweeping his sword dangerously in front of entranced class of students on the first day of the new term many lifetimes ago. He looked down at Ginny for a moment and then swept quickly toward her. He placed his hands on her shoulders with an intensity that jolted her body.

"But he _does_ remember you, Ginny," he said with conviction. "He may not know your name, the details of your lives together may have eluded his waking thoughts, but in his heart he still knows you and remembers your love. And believe me, Ginny, sooner if not later, that will prove very important indeed."

Sirius did not wait for Ginny to reply. He turned around and walked back inside the burning triangle. No flame caught on his cloak. He turned back and faced them only briefly, but when he did so, his eyes seemed oddly lifeless. Ginny suddenly had the feeling they'd been dead all the time and only now could she see it. A chill ran up her spine and a gust of wind blew up again. With a cry of warning, another bird - a single black crow this time - skimmed the top of her head and flew low over the triangle. A split second later, Sirius had vanished. The priests waited for a moment, then moved onto the sacred ground. They touched their extinguished torches to the flames on the grass, lighting them again, but somehow extinguishing the flames from the ground. By the time they had captured the tongues of flame from each point on the triangle, the fire had disappeared completely. Not even a burn mark remained on the lush, green earth.

"I didn't know you drew."

Harry instinctively moved the rough piece of white cardboard away as Hermione approached.

"You don't have to hide it from me."

"I - I'm sorry," said Harry. "It's instinctive, you know. I'm feeling a bit jumpy right now."

Hermione nodded her understanding. They were outside again. A football scrimmage was going on but Harry wasn't taking part this time. He'd done his duty the day before. And Hermione doubted whether he would have felt like it in any case. They had heard nothing from Sirius since he had told them that morning he would try to break them out of the school. Knowing him, it could be days or weeks before he contacted them again. But it also could be hours and, at this moment, both of them were alert and edgy. Perhaps drawing was the way Harry relaxed himself. She'd never known that before but she supposed there was a lot she didn't remember about her friend.

Harry held up the cardboard, which turned out to be the backing of an old box of sweets he'd found on the ground. She could see he'd only gotten as far as tracing a profile, but it was definitely meant to be a face and Hermione guessed it was a girl's. Harry had drawn out the traces of her hair which was long but straight, not as bushy as Hermione's.

"I've only started doing it recently," said Harry, in reply to Hermione's earlier question. "I've never been much good at drawing. But I have this face in my mind somehow. A - a girl's face." Harry blushed a little. "I don't know who she is. I think she might be in my dreams. Do you ever have one of those dreams where you can see people there but you can't quite see what they look like? As if your mind doesn't know all the details?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "I - I don't know," she said. "Perhaps. I don't remember my dreams very much really." She shuddered suddenly, as though someone had just walked over her grave.

"Well, I do, I think," Harry went on. "It seems like if I draw it I'll remember. I fancy sometimes..." He stopped himself.

"Go on."

"Well, I fancy sometimes she might have been someone I knew before - before, well, you know, if it's all true, that is."

"Before your memories were taken away from you, like Sirius said?"

For the first time since they had begun talking, Harry and Hermione looked each other in the eye. Both saw the tension the other was feeling, but it was Hermione who put it into words.

"Harry, s - suppose Sirius _does_ come to get us out of here, are you really - I mean, are we really going to leave with him?"

Harry looked at her for a moment and then, as though reaching a decision, nodded.

Hermione bit her lip. "Harry, I was thinking, you know, about - about something Sirius said. He said he had to get us out of this school. But then he corrected himself and said 'out of this _world_.'"

"Yeah?"

"Well, what did he mean by that? Haven't you wondered?"

"Well, yes... I mean no. No, I suppose not really. If what he says is true, then there's a lot we don't understand."

"Harry," said Hermione, a bit hesitantly. "Do you ever get the sense there are things he's not telling us?"

Harry sighed. "Yes," he said, after a pause. "But I've decided not to care about that anymore." His jaw hardened suddenly.

"Harry," Hermione went on. "I remember reading something sometime. About some sort of cult. And how the leader led them all to suicide. What if - I mean, well - what if that's what Sirius is doing? Maybe that's what he means by 'out of this world?' I mean he doesn't really seem so, well, normal really, does he? What if he's going to take us out of this school and lead us to our deaths somehow?"

"And all the spells we learned were done with magnets and wires?"

"Yeah, something like that," replied Hermione, with a bit of hesitation.

"I don't think so, Hermione, but that isn't really important to me anyway, now. I've just decided to trust Sirius."

"Are you really sure about that, Harry?" asked Hermione quietly, even though she already felt she knew the answer.

"Yes," came the equally quiet but no less determined reply. "I've decided to take the chance at any rate. Because I don't want to spend the rest of life thinking I could have left this hell behind me and didn't. Do you, Hermione?"

Hermione didn't get the chance to answer for, at that precise moment, both of them became aware that an ominous shadow had descended upon them.

"I'm so sorry to disturb your conversation," said Sister Umbridge. "But I'm afraid we have a small problem. Would the two of you like to come with me?"

Neville lay in his sleeping bag. It was comfortable enough, charmed for warmth and extra padding in the still chilly Scottish spring night, but sleep could not come to him. He heard two of his tent mates - seventh-year Ravenclaws both (all the houses were mixed up now) - snoring away and much of him wished for the bliss of their ignorance. If all went according to plan, by the following night, they would find themselves alone. Neville would have already left quietly with the others on a long march to save the world.

Now that Apparation was not involved, they could have taken the rest of the school along with them. Neville would have thought there was safety in numbers, especially at a time like this, but Professor McGonagall had had other ideas: as she explained it, this was a plan where stealth was the better part of strength. Neville didn't question that she knew what she was talking about. He was also fairly certain that, although she had taken them further into her confidence than he ever would have dreamed of as a Hogwarts student, there was still much she had learned from Dumbledore that she hadn't told them.

And so they were leaving early the next morning. Neville had lost track of how much time had passed since they had extinguished their small torches and been told to get to sleep. It seemed that every time he found something to stop worrying about, something new emerged. He certainly hoped that Luna hadn't made good on her plan to go looking through the ruins of the school for Shakespeare. He also doubted he'd be able to fall asleep until Ron returned. Neville felt certain he had gone back to the castle although they'd been forbidden to do so. Ron had known the dangers but there was obviously something that he, like Luna, had left behind, something he very much wanted, something that couldn't be easily replaced. No doubt he'd assumed Neville was asleep like the others when he'd quietly crept out of the tent.

Putting Ron aside for a moment, Neville's thoughts returned to what had preoccupied his mind the most since that afternoon; why he most envied the students who weren't going with them and would know nothing until it was too late; why he even envied the rest of the wizarding world still sleeping away under the cloud of an illusion.

He wondered what the end of the world would really feel like. Would it be painful? Would they have time to know that all hope had passed? Or would it be quick? Would everything end in the ignorance Neville now so craved? Facing death in Gryffindor Tower hadn't seemed as bad as this. As he'd reflected on it since, only a fool would have believed they could have survived the odds as they had. Yet reflection was exactly what had been denied them at the time. Everything had happened so fast they had had no time to think. Ever since that night in the Department of Mysteries, Neville had become accustomed to swallowing his fear in the face of great danger, but the prospect of an insidious ticking clock that could ring at any moment seemed much more terrifying. He wondered if -

Neville's thoughts were interrupted as the flap of the tent moved softly open again. He opened his eyes long enough to make sure it was Ron who had returned to enter his sleeping bag. Once he had done so, he closed his eyes and tried to breathe more heavily to give the impression he was sleeping. Whatever it was Ron had returned so dangerously to retrieve, Neville doubted his roommate wanted anyone to know about it. But as Ron lay back into his sleeping bag, perhaps condemned to as sleepless a night as him, Neville couldn't help but open his eyes again just a little and catch a glimpse of a small, soot covered case in Ron's hands. He watched as Ron moved his thumb and forefinger back and forth to remove the dirt that had fallen on the otherwise intact box. Inside he could make out the two rings, twirling back and forth, just as they had on the night the first term when Ron had found the case after the Quidditch match. Neville assumed he now remembered what it had been for.

"I won't let you down, Hermione," Ron whispered softly, startling Neville and forcing his eyes shut again. "Not again. Not this time."

Neville didn't open his eyes again but heard Ron stuff the box into the bottom of his knapsack and then rest his head back onto his pillow. Within moments, both had fallen into a deep, yet uneasy sleep.

"Don't make a sound!"

Hermione woke up and gasped but managed to keep herself from crying out. Still woozy, her mind in and out of the embers of half-forgotten dreams, she became aware that someone was shining a light in her face. She held her hand up to her eyes to keep the light away when its owner lowered it.

She looked up into the mangy, shadowy face of Sirius. Somehow, she knew it would be him. Her heart pounded fast. Was this the moment when she found out where his loyalties really lay?

"Have you come to get us out of here?" she whispered.

"Sssh!" Sirius placed a fierce hand to his lips. "I'm afraid not. Things have not gone according to plan. I'm lucky I found you, though. A few moments later and I fear they'd have gotten to you. Time always moves unevenly here. I suppose you don't notice. I was only gone a few minutes in the other world and it was hours here."

Sirius fumbled quickly through his untidy pockets as he talked.

"Did you find Harry?"

"Yes, only just."

"They separated us both! They put me here in the hospital wing. They said it was for my protection. But Harry's somewhere else. I don't know - "

"Relax, he's safe, but you must keep quiet, Hermione! They're trying to keep you from me and they won't be pleased to find me in here. They're going to try to erase your memories of me tonight and I have to make sure they don't succeed this time. Now - _ah_!"

Sirius produced a small glass ball from his pocket.

"What's that for?" Hermione's fingers tensed her blanket into knots.

Sirius paused but it was an anxious and impatient pause.

"You have to trust me, Hermione. We haven't time for much else."

Hermione looked back at Sirius who held the ball out in front of him.

"Now, keep still, please!"

Hermione did as she was told. Sirius began muttering something under his breath. The last thing Hermione remembered was a sharp light shining out from the ball. Then she fell back unconscious.

And even before her head hit her pillow, Sirius had vanished from the room.

"Your report on the catastrophe. And do not lie to Lord Voldemort, for he always knows."

Umbridge shuddered in spite of herself. She was weak, physically and mentally exhausted. She hadn't slept for more than twenty-four hours. But she knew her master wouldn't tolerate rest before she had reported to him and, for the sake of her own survival, she knew she would have to make sure he knew she'd undone the damage Black had created.

She looked up at Malfoy, seated at his unnatural perch surrounded by vials and odd knobs of rock that seemed to have been carved from the most evil of dark magic, a white spider at home in the trap he had spun. His hair was still blonde and his face youthful, but his eyes were narrow, sullen, and smaller now. There seemed little of the Slytherin boy she'd remembered - and mistaken him to be for so long.

"I have placed the Memory Charm - my Lord. Everything proceeded smoothly. Wormtail was meticulous in his help. None of the children will remember. Nor will Snape his little incident or the persistent errors on the tape."

"And Black did not return? You are sure?"

"Certain of it, my Lord."

Dolores Umbridge was not certain, of course. Sirius Black could have been anywhere in her school that night and she would have had little means to know. She forced herself to muster all that she remembered of Occlumency. It was especially important that Malfoy not find out that Black had stolen the parchment from her. But she sensed it was not nearly enough. The Dark Lord could read her mind like a book as his eyes searched her.

He smiled for a moment, his blue eyes sparkling behind the black hood that now covered his face. As he leaned closer to her, Umbridge willed herself not to shake, but eventually she could not help it as the words came out of his mouth.

"You are not certain, Dolores, but it is does not matter. Soon we will have the means to be rid of Black forever."

Umbridge forced herself to calm as Malfoy snapped his fingers. For the first time since their conversation had begun, she realized that they had not been alone. From within the dark shadows of the labyrinth that curled its way up above the walls behind Malfoy rose a short and incongruous figure. Umbridge was surprised when she saw it was a common house-elf and an old one at that.

"What is _that_ doing here?" she demanded, her offense that such a vile and profane creature would find its way into a sacred place such as this momentarily overcoming her fear of retribution.

"I share your disgust, believe me, Dolores. But this one is obedient and will serve our purpose. It seems it was inadvertently freed from the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix after Black died. It came to me of its own will - such as it has one."

"What use is it to us now? The Order knows nothing, surely - my Lord."

"It will be of very great use in solving your inadequacies, Dolores. _Speak_, elf!"

The house-elf stepped further forward. It was weak and afraid, Umbridge could tell, but it nonetheless seemed excited as it spoke.

"Kreacher is long the servant of his true dark masters. How Kreacher was hating the blood traitors and mudbloods that once ran freely around his poor old mistress's house. They is wanting to hurt the Dark Lord, but Kreacher will have his revenge."

"_Revenge?_" replied Umbridge, feeling repulsed that such a creature could feel any real emotion. "We will find use for you to bring us refreshment, but then you will stay out of our sight."

"Kreacher knows things, things Master Dark Lord is wanting to know."

"_You? _How can _you_ know anything?"

"Save your tongue, Dolores," chided Malfoy. "Fate plays a strange hand sometimes. It has some vestigial ancestral knowledge from the days when Dark Magic was free from the interference of do-gooders; a race memory and a valuable one."

"Kreacher is knowing about the gateway. All the house-elves is knowing," Kreacher went on, rubbing his hands together with a disgusting eagerness. "Kreacher is understanding how to rid Master Dark Lord of his problem. Kreacher is knowing how to send the last of the Blacks back where he belongs!"

"This elf may know how to expel Black back beyond the gateway - for good," said Malfoy. "Back where he can no longer interfere with our plans. His ideas will need some testing but in time, I believe they will work."

"I find it difficult to believe that this creature is telling the truth," said Umbridge neutrally.

"_You_ find many things difficult to believe, Dolores, in your narrow, petty way, that Lord Voldemort does not. You would do well to remember that." He turned back to Kreacher. "Now, elf, that is not all, is it? Do tell us more."

Kreacher rubbed his hands together again. "Master Dark Lord is looking for someone, someone Kreacher is knowing is hidden away, hidden by house-elves."

"The Weasley girl?" asked Umbridge, fighting to keep her frustration at Malfoy's dangerous obsession out of her voice.

Malfoy nodded.

"Then take us to her!" she demanded to Kreacher.

Kreacher frowned. "Kreacher is not knowing where she is held - yet. But Kreacher is being a house-elf. Kreacher can find their villages and sooner or later Kreacher will find the blood traitor and deliver her to Master Dark Lord."

Malfoy smiled slowly. "You see, Dolores, there are antidotes to your incompetence, after all. With a small bit of patience, the final obstacles to my plans will be removed, one after another. Then there will be nothing left for all who have dared to cross me but witness my final triumph."

Umbridge knew she had to look then. Malfoy's expansive gesture had brooked no contradiction. She stared up behind her, back up high into the unholy chasm that Malfoy had created, the chasm whose five sides would deliver the energy needed to save their world or end it. And there hanging from the convoluted threads that spun throughout this cathedral of the two worlds was the stone archway that Malfoy had stolen months before from the Department of Mysteries, the archway that contained the tattered veil that was the gateway between those two worlds. As Umbridge looked up, she could not see that, even now, the veil had begun to flutter softly. It was as though it was guided by the unseen winds of a destiny the wizarding world had no longer any means to escape.


	18. The Long March

**Chapter 18**

**The Long March**

The early spring dawn had barely begun to touch the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest when Ron felt Harmon enter his tent very quietly and nudge him on his shoulder with the tip of a wand. Still groggy from his poor night's sleep, Ron began to moan softly but Harmon put a decisive finger to his lips. Wordlessly, he pointed to Neville. Ron slowly nudged his sleeping tent mate who let out an even larger moan. At this, both Ron and Harmon put their fingers to their lips. Neville surveyed them sleepily for a moment, then gave a groggy nod.

Harmon left the tent and Ron and Neville picked up their rucksacks. Ron dismissed the irrational thought that Harmon would somehow see the case of rings on the inside of his bag and know that he had gone back to the castle the night before to retrieve them.

Both of the boys left the tent without another word. The other students remained almost completely asleep as they passed the remaining tents. Before they had left the clearing completely, Ron stole a quick look back at the hospital tent. He hoped that Seamus would recover under Madam Pomfrey's care but he didn't expect any news: McGonagall had made it very clear to the group when it had met for the first time the night before that they were to have no communications with the outside world at anytime during their trip.

They left the area with the tents and continued to walk down toward the clearing where Hagrid's hut had once stood. Ron supposed the whole hut had been somehow magically bound to their former gameskeeper and Care of Magical Creatures teacher for, now that he was gone - and where still none of them knew - all trace of the hut and the gardens he had once grown had vanished with him. In the place where it had once stood, as fitting a tribute as any to his memory, those that would join them in this impossible journey had now gathered: McGonagall stood at the head of the group, dressed strangely in a tan pair of Muggle hiking trousers and a matching jacket. Next to her was Nevins, in slightly cleaner but still worn looking robes. Beside him were the other students: Ernie Macmillan, Parvati Patil, and the Slytherin Keeper Hall. Ron briefly made eye contact with Hall who looked back at him warily: it was just enough for Ron to know that his distrust was mutual.

"Is everyone here?" asked McGonagall. "Where's Miss Lovegood?" she added.

"I thought she was with you," replied Neville.

McGonagall sighed heavily and her cheeks flushed slightly with impatience. "We haven't time for this," she declared. "I'm sorry, Mr. Longbottom, but we'll have to - "

There was a sudden noise just behind McGonagall. Ron looked up in time to see Luna falling from a tree to the ground. She almost managed to land on her feet (literally if not figuratively), but at the last minute fell sideways onto her hip. She quickly stood up again, apparently unharmed, but covered from head to toe in leaves and twigs. Clutched in her right hand was Shakespeare the cat, whose matted green fur looked even more ghastly in the light of day than it did inside Luna's magical trunk.

McGonagall let out a small shriek.

"Bloody Hell!" declared Ron. "Come back, Crookshanks. All is forgiven."

"Just because you don't have a one-eyed cat, Ronald, it doesn't mean you have to be jealous. I'm sorry, Professor." Luna turned to McGonagall. "He does so like to menace the Bowtruckles, you know. I usually don't let him out of my trunk, but I promise he'll behave for the rest of the trip."

McGonagall, who still had her hand on her heart, and her eyes fixed disbelievingly on the monstrosity in Luna's arms, recovered quickly enough to say:

"I'm sorry, Miss Lovegood, but that - that _pet_ of yours will have to stay behind. And how did you get it out of the castle at any rate?"

"I didn't. He walked out of the rubble himself," replied Luna unblinkingly.

McGonagall and Luna stared at one another for a moment more as though they were trying to discover who would waver first. Ron didn't feel surprised when it turned out to be the Deputy Headmistress.

"As you say, Miss Lovegood, but he's not coming with us and that's final!"

Luna sighed. "Oh, I suppose not. Run along then, dear." She released Shakespeare into the air. He sprang forward and disappeared into space.

"Wh - whatever made him do that?" asked McGonagall, taking a shocked step backward. "No - nothing can Disapparate here!"

"Oh, Shakespeare doesn't Disapparate," said Luna matter-of-factly. "He folds space in around himself. Clever really. I wish I knew how it was done. Are you sure you don't want him to scout ahead for us?"

McGonagall's only reply this time was a bony finger in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Shrugging, Luna walked ahead, followed quickly by Harmon, McGonagall herself, then Parvati, Ernie, and Nevins. Hall followed after Nevins, shaking his head.

"McGonagall must be mad letting Loony Lovegood come along on a trip like this," he muttered.

Ron was feeling far from kindly toward Luna himself but something about Hall's remark pricked his anger. Before he'd realized what he was doing, he had felt for his wand and, without taking it out from behind the folds of his cloak, discretely stuck it into Hall's side.

"Better a loony than a spy," he murmured.

Hall stopped and swung around. Anger flashed in his eyes for a moment, but then he gave the Gryffindor a half-smile that Ron could not help but feel belonged on the lips of Draco Malfoy.

"You don't trust me, Weasel Face? You should. McGonagall does. Or isn't that good enough for you?"

Ron suddenly became aware that Nevins had stopped at the threshold of the forest and turned back around to face them. "Come along then, boys," he said. "Anything the matter?"

"Nothing, Professor," replied Hall quickly.

Ron waited until Nevins had turned back toward the forest before giving Hall a last nudge with his wand.

"_She _might be convinced," he hissed, "but I'm never going to trust a Slytherin. I would watch yourself, Hall, because you can be sure that I will be watching _you_."

Before Hall could reply Ron took his wand away and walked quickly after Nevins.

The long march had begun.

The specialist nun - what was her name - Sister Unction? No, Sister _Umbridge_, that was it - placed her hands serenely together as she stared at them from behind Snape's desk. The headmaster himself looked even paler than usual and his eyes had a strange, glazed over look to them. If Harry didn't know better, he would have sworn he'd been drugged. Harry's attention was forced back to Umbridge once again as she softly cleared her throat, something she seemed to have the habit of doing. Harry wanted to feel it was irksome, but, to his consternation, he found himself more afraid that annoyed of this Sister Umbridge. Although she had repeatedly insisted, in her saccharine voice, that Harry and Hermione had done nothing wrong, Harry couldn't help but think there was something decidedly sinister about the way she kept asking them the same things over and over again. For the umpteenth time, he looked quickly sideways to see that Hermione seemed, if anything, more unnerved than he was.

"There's no need to feel nervous, Mr. Potter," cooed Umbridge.

"I - I'm sorry, sister." Harry lowered his head instinctively. "It's just that - "

"I understand," replied Umbridge, with the tone of someone spreading marmite very slowly onto a sandwich, "you're not accustomed to being called into the headmaster's office. And why should you be? After all, you are both model students. While the unfortunate crimes that brought you both here to our school many years ago were undeniably heinous, your behavior since then has been exemplary. All of the sisters have nothing but good words to say about you. And as for your extra-curricular activities, well," Umbridge tried to smile but succeeded only in looking like a cobra preparing to swallow something a bit larger than itself, "it seems congratulations are in order for you, Mr. Potter, on the football pitch and you, Miss Granger, at netball."

Harry felt a sudden wave of inexplicable nausea but managed to nod and force a weak smile.

"No," said Umbridge, growing serious again. "In this case, our concern is for your own safety."

"But, excuse me, Sister," said Hermione. "Why would someone be after us?"

Umbridge shook her head slowly. "Your guess is as good as mine. We only managed to learn - before his escape - that the guard in question was connected with one of the most dangerous criminal organizations in Britain. They call themselves only the Gryffindors."

"The _Gryffindors_?" repeated Harry.

"You've not heard of them, have you, Mr. Potter?" said Umbridge, looking at him searchingly.

"Well...no."

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Nor would I have expected either of you to have." Umbridge smiled again, seeming inexplicably pleased with herself. "Suffice it to say that your talents had attracted them and that they had hoped to recruit you into their nefarious organization following your release. But I think they misunderstood how well we've succeeded in rescuing your souls from lives as hardened criminals. Isn't that right, Headmaster?"

"Perfectly right, Sister," said Snape hypnotically. "Absolutely correct, in fact."

"Well, that's good then." Umbridge got to her feet. "I see no need to keep you further from your studies. Sister Barnes will explain your absence to your teachers. That is - " she held her finger up in the air again, causing Harry and Hermione to pause halfway to their feet, " - so long as you are _very sure _that no one came to visit you last night?"

It was at least the fourth time Umbridge had asked them that question since they had entered the office and after each time, Harry had felt more certain that she was trying to catch them in a lie. But in all honesty, no one had visited him the night before. All he remembered was Sister Barnes spiriting him away to an empty bedroom in the Barringer Wing just before bed "for his own safety." He had felt a bit concerned and anxious for a time but then he had fallen asleep. He still didn't know where they had taken Hermione but he doubted that her experience had been any different.

"No, Sister," said Hermione very quickly. "Honestly we didn't."

"Splendid!" Umbridge declared. "Off you go, then!"

Harry and Hermione didn't need to be told twice to leave the office. They made their way down the short corridor to the Room of Quiet Repose where they expected Sister Barnes would be waiting to escort them back to class. Once inside, however, they found that it was empty. Hermione quickly shut the door behind them.

"What on earth was all that about?" wondered Harry as soon as they were out of earshot. "Who was that nun anyway and why did she - _ow!_"

Harry winced as Hermione moved toward him and stepped on his foot.

"Shut up," she hissed in a whisper. "They have cameras in here, don't you know?"

"No."

"Well, they do. That's why they're leaving us in here alone now. They want to see if we were telling them the truth."

"Well, we were - weren't we?"

"Yes, I think so, Harry. But don't you think it a bit odd that we suddenly - "

The outer door to the room opened and Sister Barnes entered, a severe frown on her face.

"Whatever are you two talking about?" she demanded crossly, her brow deeply furrowed. "This is no time for chit-chat!" she added before either of them could reply. "You've both obviously gotten yourself into a great deal of trouble. They don't call Sister Umbridge in for nothing!"

"Honestly, Sister!" Hermione protested. "That wasn't it at all! We didn't do anything - "

"You can save your excuses for later, Miss Granger," Barnes said sharply. "It's time you were in class - both of you - and _quickly!"_

His face burning with the injustice of it all, Harry reluctantly let Sister Barnes lead himself and Hermione out of the Room of Quiet Repose and quickly down the corridor. Considering her age, Harry thought that Sister Barnes walked surprisingly quickly. Both Harry and Hermione had to hurry to keep up with her.

"At least allow us to explain - " Harry began again.

"I don't want you to explain _anything_, Potter!" Sister Barnes snapped back sharply without even turning her head. "And don't expect me to excuse you from your lessons either!"

"But Sister Umbridge said - " Hermione tried to say.

"_Not another word, Miss Granger!" _Barnes did turn back this time, showing a hellish fury in her eyes. Harry exchanged a conspiratorial look of venom with Hermione behind her back but both of them knew that if they opened their mouths again, they would very quickly cross the line. And one did not want to cross the line at St. Brutus's.

Harry allowed his anger to boil inside. He tried to reassure himself that far from being grateful for the salvation of his soul, one day he would have revenge on this school and its insufferable nuns. He suddenly felt disappointed that this representative of the criminal gang hadn't come to contact them. Maybe joining them wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. What had all of the do-gooders of the world ever done for him, anyway? It would just be -

Harry's thoughts were abruptly cut off as Hermione tugged on his sleeve. He looked up to see that Sister Barnes, who was still walking in front of them, hadn't made the turn down to the corridor that led to the maths classroom. Sensing that she still meant to lead them, Harry and Hermione quickly corrected their course and followed her. Harry thought for a moment that she might be taking them to Hermione's class first, but it quickly dawned on him that they both had maths at the same time.

Where was Sister Barnes leading them then? Harry hadn't been down this corridor much in his time at St. Brutus's. They were usually forbidden from taking any detours. He was pretty certain, however, that it led only to a doorway that exited out of the back of the main school building. Beyond that doorway, there was only a narrow pavement which ringed the perimeter of the school next to the double-layered barbed-wire fences that protected the rest of England from the hooligans within. Yet Sister Barnes continued to lead them inexorably down this corridor, missing several turnings to other staircases on the way. At one point, they passed several younger students led in orderly fear by a nun, but now there was no one about. Harry and Hermione exchanged several more perplexed and progressively anxious glances. They both knew that Sister Barnes would not easily tolerate them speaking up again, but all the same... Finally, it seemed Hermione could restrain herself no longer.

"I'm very sorry, Sister," she said, a bit timidly, "but I'm afraid you must have taken a wrong - "

It all happened very quickly. Sister Barnes stopped abruptly and swung around to face them. Unprepared, Harry and Hermione had to stop quickly themselves and almost cannoned into her. Caught off guard, they could do nothing while she reached out both of her hands toward them. It was only then that Harry noticed she had been carrying some sort of glass ball in each of her fists. Harry had no time to react to defend himself when a sharp red light shot out of the ball nearest him and struck him on the head. A horrible pain shot out from his skull and paralyzed his body. He felt his knees give way and fall under him. His glasses hit the ground and he tried to pick them up, but the pain seemed to cripple him. The last thing he noticed through blurred vision was Hermione crouching next to him, her hands clutched over the sides of her head in agony, and then everything slowly faded away.

Ginny stared up at Dumbledore who still held the letter from McGonagall in his hand. At times like these, she wished she could make herself taller. Much taller.

"_Eight weeks?_" she cried, as shrilly as she could.

"Give or take a week or two," said Dumbledore, far too off-handedly for Ginny's liking. "The Abercrombie Pass does tend to get a bit marshy this time of year and that can sometimes slow things down. Then again - "

"The world could come to an end _tomorrow! _What good is eight weeks going to do?"

"I rather think it won't, Ginny. It may be a very near thing, I admit, but I still believe that time is on our side. I told you: there are signs and I will be watching for them."

And that's all you're going to be doing, thought Ginny, but just about managed to restrain herself from saying it.

"But there must be another way!" she protested.

"If I've learned few things over the years, Ginny, one of them is that Professor Nevins is very rarely wrong about much, at least when it doesn't concern himself."

"But then how is it that Professor Lupin can Apparate?"

"The elf village protects us from the effect of the memory shield in this area. Presumably there are some residual magical effects from our extended time here that have protected Remus on his journeys."

"Then they'll protect you, too! You've been here just as long as he has! And I'm immune from the effects of the Memory Charms. We should go now; it's our only chance!"

"It is no chance at all," insisted Dumbledore in a tone that was soft but firm. "As I've already told you, Ginny, you are far too great a target for Voldemort and so am I. We'd scarcely make it out of this village before he found us and then what hope would any of us have? No," he added, in response to Ginny's frustrated silence. "Remus will continue to make his reports. I have every confidence that he will tell us how near Voldemort is to completion, where the weaknesses in his defenses are, and how best our group can strike when they arrive at the lake."

"And in the meantime, I'm going to be stuck here doing nothing, is that it?"

"I sincerely hope not. As the only present member of the Hogwarts faculty, I have a duty to make sure that while you are here, you can continue with your schooling. You have an opportunity to learn from your experience these few weeks in this village what few witches have the chance to understand in their lifetimes. I hope you will not waste it."

And with that, Dumbledore walked slowly away from the field and back to the village, slowly munching on an apple as he left.

Ginny watched him depart for a moment then angrily kicked a stone on the ground. Her only consoling thought was a determination to learn far more than Dumbledore had bargained for.

Harry felt a standard prison-issue paper cup being pushed to his lips. Cool water rushed down his throat for a moment but, unprepared, he gagged and began to cough.

"Steady! Steady on!" said a man's voice next to him.

He felt someone push his glasses back into his hand. He quickly put them on and looked up to see who had just given them to him.

"Sirius!" he exclaimed.

His godfather, never looking more mangy than he did now, smiled and nodded.

"You remember," he said. "I was afraid it wouldn't work. I've never tried it before and I really didn't want to spring it on you so suddenly like that but I didn't have much choice. They're going to be watching you even more closely now and we have little time to spare together."

Harry frowned. His head still pounded with pain, though the water made him feel a little better. As his mind cleared, certain things started to come back to him - things that seemed impossible. He _hadn't_ remembered Sirius that morning - had he? He hadn't known anything about doing magic or anything about Hermione's jailbreak. He'd told Umbridge the truth when he'd said that he couldn't remember anyone coming to see him the night before. But now he did: he remembered Sirius coming to him and placing some sort of ball - a ball exactly like the one he had just used - next to his forehead. And then? Harry's head started to hurt again, but then another realization hit him.

"Hermione!"

"I'm right here, Harry."

Harry looked across to see Hermione sitting next to him. She looked very pale.

"Wh - what happened?" said Harry. "Where are we? What - " He winced again.

"Steady on." Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder again. "You're in the cleaning closet. And we haven't got much time. Another few minutes and you'll be missed in class and so will the real Sister Barnes."

"What did you do to her?" asked Hermione a little edgily.

"She's unconscious in the parallel closet down the other corridor. A conventional Memory Charm should do the trick but the longer I wait, the more mopping up I'll have to do - no pun intended. Relax, Hermione," he added grinning. "I don't eat people. I promise you."

"I - I'm sorry," said Hermione haltingly. "It's all still a little bit overwhelming."

"But what happened?" asked Harry again, insistently. "This morning - _I _remembered - I didn't - did you do that to us last night to prevent us from having to lie to Umbridge?"

Sirius shook his head and chuckled. "No, Harry, the chicken came before the egg. I tried to get you out of the school yesterday afternoon but I failed miserably." He sighed. "Umbridge found out about everything and placed another mass Memory Charm last night."

"She can do that?" asked Hermione.

"She's behind all this. Can't you tell?"

Hermione stared back at Sirius for a moment and Harry felt sure she was going to try to contradict him, but after a few minutes of silence, she slowly nodded her head.

"She's a witch, too, and not a very nice one."

"So you trapped our memories in those - _things_ you shot at us just now?" said Harry.

"That's right, Harry. And now I've given them back to you."

"But only the ones we had before the last time they placed the charm?"

"I'm afraid so, Hermione. The first time took us all by surprise. Still, we've learned a lot since then and this is an improvement on giving you back your diary."

Harry exchanged a quick glance with Hermione and knew that she, too, wondered who "we" referred to, but both of them sensed this was not the time to ask.

"And the others?" Hermione asked.

Sirius looked at her for a moment then let out a deep sigh. There was a horrible pause in the conversation, then Harry said:

"You didn't get to them in time, did you?"

"No, I'm afraid I didn't, Harry. And I didn't get to Snape, either. I - I spent most of my time trying to get to the two of you before it was too late, and they didn't make it easy on me. I had almost reached Snape's chambers when they cast the charm. I could feel it; I knew. I was too late."

"Well, there must be something we can do!" said Hermione. She got to her feet and stumbled a bit in the enclosed space, but resisted Sirius's steadying hand and managed to remain upright.

"There's nothing we can do short of finding where they've stored all the memories," explained Sirius, "and, believe me, not a day goes past when I'm not looking. But we can't stop at that: I've got to keep training you."

"And the other Muggle-borns," added Hermione quickly. "We've got to introduce them back into the group!"

Sirius shook his head. "There isn't time."

Harry got to his feet as well. "You can't just abandon them!"

"I'm not abandoning them, Harry!" retorted Sirius, his face twisted in angry frustration. "But the best way we can help them is by getting the two of you out of here first. Now, please, we've got to get going."

But Harry wasn't going anywhere until this strange man provided him with a straight answer.

"_Why_, Sirius? Why _us_? Why didn't you go to save Lavender first, or - or Dean, or Colin or Justin or - "

"Because you're the ones who can stop him - _Voldemort_," Sirius winced as though pained to say the name. "The one who created this mad world. Especially you, Harry." Sirius paused and looked Harry in the eye. "In the world you come from, there's a prophecy: either you kill Voldemort or he kills you. Thousands have died," he added softly. "And that's nothing to the deaths there will be if you don't stop him this time and soon. So, you see, Lavender and Dean and Colin and Justin and anyone else don't stand much of a chance unless _you_ get out of this school very soon."

There was another long pause. Harry continued to look at Sirius. He felt his heart start to race. What this man had just told him was the laughable fantasy of fairy tale but somehow in his gut he knew that it was true. What was more, as he'd told Hermione the day before, he'd decided to trust Sirius. And this didn't seem like a reasonable time to back away from that trust. Harry slumped back onto the box he had been sitting with a crunch and buried his face in his hands. He wanted to do anything but look up and see the expression on Hermione's face.

"But _how_?" she asked Sirius. "You just told us Umbridge found out about you trying to help us escape!"

"It's true, Hermione. I'm not going to be able to fool them into letting me sneak you out. We're going to have to do this _our_ way, a wizard's way. In your removed memories, both of you possess magical abilities that are no match for the defenses of this prison. I'm going to teach those to you again. In the meantime, you must be very careful and so must I. We can't afford to have your memories erased again. Voldemort has unhatched a plot - a _terrible _plot. This school's only part of it. We have to - "

Sirius suddenly broke off, clutched his stomach, and let out a sharp breath. All the while his eyes bulged and his face creased up in what appeared to be intense pain.

Harry quickly got to his feet and raised his hand out to steady Sirius's arm. Hermione did the same to the other.

"Are you all right?" he demanded. "What just happened?"

Sirius didn't answer him for a moment. His face remained locked in pain, but then he slowly relaxed and stood upright again. The expression that remained on his face was one of fear and confusion, however, and seeing it from someone upon whom Harry had come to rely as having all the answers was not very reassuring.

"That's amazing!" said Sirius suddenly.

"What?" asked Harry and Hermione in unison.

"An incredible sensation that my insides were being yanked out from within me." Sirius suddenly let out a great yelping laugh. "I haven't felt so much of my body since - "

"Yes?" prompted Harry, looking even more concerned.

Sirius swung around suddenly to look at Harry and Hermione and this time his eyes were filled with alarm.

"This is not good," he declared. "This is not good at all. Someone's just interfered - but that's not possible - unless..." Sirius held up a finger. "Unless somehow they've found a way to expel me."

"I - I don't think we understand, Sirius," said Hermione tentatively, looking across to Harry for confirmation. "You mean expel you from this school? Who?"

"No, it's worse than that, I'm afraid; I think they may have found a way to expel me from this world."

"Sirius," said Harry. "When you say _this world_, we don't know what you're talking about."

Sirius suddenly turned to Harry and clasped his hands around his godson's shoulders. "And I'll tell you, Harry. I'll tell you everything - _both of you_. But I can't possibly tell you now. I've got to get Sister Barnes back - and you - before you're missed and while I still have the energy left."

"But you'll come back, won't you?" said Harry, sounding a little more desperate than he wanted to.

"Oh, yes, Harry," said Sirius, looking him closely in the eye. "I'll be back. That's a promise. Though I don't think mass will be the right time anymore. They'll be looking for it. We'll have to switch things up - a different lesson every week. I'm sure you'll be able to manage it, especially you, Hermione!"

Sirius got to his feet and tried to flash Hermione a confident smile.

"But what will happen if they _do _succeed in expelling you from this... _world_?" she asked.

"Oh, I shouldn't think they'll be able to do it all that soon. What I felt was seemed more of a test than anything. Perhaps even a bit of luck. But still, we've got to make the most of the time we have together just in case it wasn't. Now, come on - up on your feet, both of you!"

Harry reluctantly stood up and Hermione did the same. He felt much better now but his mind was still full of questions. In his haste to get them back to their lesson, Sirius practically pushed them out of the door, however.

"Wait!" said Harry. "How will we know - "

But as he turned around to face Sirius, he found that his godfather had already disappeared.

"Caught in the act; I _knew _you couldn't be trusted! _Hand it over now!"_

It had been four weeks since they had left Hogwarts - four weeks of tiring, backbreaking climbing and hiking through the rugged wilderness of Highland Scotland and the thick, dark forests of the lowlands as they made their way south to the Lake District just inside the English border. They were guided only by Harmon's impeccable knowledge of the stars; McGonagall's wand, which was charmed to the precise location of Voldemort's hideout; and Nevins' understanding of the terrain. Often times, it would pour with rain; at others, the sun would bake them right off of the earth where they were standing. Ferocious winds would tear through their skin as though Voldemort had summoned the heavens to stop them and thick mountain fogs would sweep in as quickly as dry ice from a terrible Muggle film, making it almost impossible to see their path a few steps ahead.

"Couldn't we use thestrals or something?" Ron had asked Nevins as the professor had charmed out their campfire one night, the persistent aching of his ankles making him forget his fear of flying the creatures. "I wouldn't even mind going by Hippogriff. Anything's better than trudging across these mountains, day after day."

Nevins had smiled. "No, Ron. Any sort of magical creature is unlikely to make the rider immune from the memory fields."

"_Unlikely,_ but not impossible?"

"I'm afraid we can't very well go testing every form of magical transport to see whether it will cause the rider to lose their memories. We know that walking is safe and so we'll have to stick to walking."

"What about Muggle transport? You said yourself you came up to Hogwarts part of the way by train!"

"And a foolhardy plan that was. No, Ron, Muggle transport is very unreliable. The trains and buses don't come when you stick your hand out. You could be waiting along the side of a road or track for hours or days before something comes along and then, as often as not, it will race right past you. Even if, with by some luck, you succeed in getting on, the Muggle guards will throw you off in the middle of nowhere just because you haven't got the right change! And remember, Ron, Muggles don't have magic. Their trains and buses run on all kinds of primitive contraptions, each as likely as the next to break down. Though I wonder that you don't already know considering your unfortunate experience with a Muggle car your second year."

Ron's eyes had narrowed. "How did you know about that? Did Harry tell you?"

Nevins had winked. "Let's put it this way: the poor Whomping Willow hasn't forgotten."

Ron could hardly say he had enjoyed their back-breaking journey but if there was one thing he was about happy about, it was the chance to get to know Professor Nevins. It had turned out that, along with his impressive knowledge of Defense skills, Nevins knew quite a lot of handy survival charms, without which all of them - including McGonagall and Harmon - would have been lost. All of this he'd put down to the results of Auror training. At the end of every day, especially as the journey wore on, most of their group had scarcely enough energy to finish a meal before falling into sleep inside their magical tents. Perhaps it was Hermione's influence, or simply because he missed her, but Ron had often stayed up, finding himself curious as to how Nevins always kept their campfire warm or managed to conjure so many delicious meals. They had also talked about other things: Nevins had told Ron much about his days as an Auror. At first, he'd needed some prompting, but after a while, the stories had flown more freely. In their lessons the year before, Nevins had always made it sound as though most of his time as an Auror had been spent in an office, directing the plans of others. Now it seemed that was only in his later years. He, too, had once had taken a more active role in fighting Dark Wizards and Ron suspected, underneath his self-deprecating humor and now customary professions of cowardice, that Nevins had been very good. In turn, Ron had shared with Nevins many of the details of his adventures with Harry and Hermione. He had even included one or two details he was sure that McGonagall wouldn't have wanted to know about. Although Ron insisted he had spent most of these experiences frightened out of his wits, Nevins seemed to take them as signs of a brave and plucky approach to danger and, by extension, life. Ron never felt quite comfortable when he sensed Nevins taking the conversation in this direction; nonetheless he was glad for their nighttime talks and found himself looking forward to them each day of their long journey. There was something very lonely about trying to save the world and he found it important to remember, especially in the absence of his friends, that he was not alone. There were nights when, in the midst of their conversations, before McGonagall came out of her tent in her tartan slippers to finally shoo them to bed, that Ron almost felt carried away from the heavy burden that had been placed on them, a burden that, in the harsh reality of daylight, sometimes felt overwhelming.

There was another reason Ron felt grateful about his conversations with Nevins: the lateness of the talks, combined with the sheer fatigue of the long hikes, day after day, meant that Ron had little difficulty falling straight into a very deep sleep. If the shadows of destiny weren't enough to keep him awake, there was the ever-present threat of danger from the forests around them. More than once, in the early days of their journey, Ron had stayed half-awake at night, half-nightmares, half-daydreams of giant spiders amplifying the eerie sounds of the creatures in the dark forests. If the fear of magical creatures, both phantom and real, weren't enough to keep Ron's nerves on edge, McGonagall, Harmon, and Nevins made very certain none of them ever forgot the danger that faced them should the Death Eaters ever discover their plans. Any communication with the outside world was, of course, strictly forbidden; they had to keep their campfires low and find shaded clearings so as not to attract attention; one of the teachers cast an Eradication Charm after they left each place to remove all traces of their presence; in general, they had to keep magic to a minimum for fear that the Death Eaters might be able to trace them; any unusual sound was examined cautiously in case they were being followed or ambushed. These cautionary measures, along the circuitous routes they sometimes needed to take, had also made their journey longer and slower.

Before they had left Hogwarts, they had placed word with the other teachers and students that they were headed on a mission to London to warn the Ministry about the Memory Charms. Yet one month into their trip, few imagined that the story was still believed. With no contact from the outside world, they had no way of knowing what was known about their journey - and by whom. They also knew that the nearer they got to their destination, the more chance there was of real danger. Nevins had told Ron one night around the campfire that he was a little surprised they hadn't encountered any resistance before now.

Of course, Ron had thought to himself almost immediately, the Death Eaters could pick their moment for ambush if someone was already telling them exactly where they were.

He had voiced his suspicions to Nevins the following night. Although his former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had been unusually frank with him about many matters, he seemed to dissolve into a magical copy of McGonagall when he declared, somewhat officiously, that there was no one in their group who couldn't be trusted. Privately, however, Ron was increasingly certain that there if there was a traitor in their midst, it could only be one person: Hall.

Little had dissuaded Ron that Slytherins - and especially this Slytherin - could simply not be trusted. He had not been impressed by their apparent show of loyalty in the battle of the Great Hall that night. As far as he was concerned, that had all been part of lulling them into a false sense of security. At best, it had been an alliance of convenience. It was well-known that Slytherins had no loyalty to anyone but themselves and would do anything to save their own skins. They could switch their allegiance as easily as putting on a new pair of shoes.

And so Ron had kept a very close eye on Hall. Since their initial joust at the entrance to the Forbidden Forest at the beginning of their trip, they hadn't had any more run-ins. Ron didn't wonder that Hall's attitude suited the purpose of attracting little attention to himself and whatever it was he might be up to. Well, if Hall could disguise his own intentions, so could Ron. He had remained polite and civil to Hall but still made very sure never to let the Slytherin far out of his sight.

And finally, his efforts had paid off.

It was still early one clear and cool morning, after a nighttime's heavy rain. They had just finished breakfast. It was Neville, Luna, and Ernie's turn to scourgify the remnants of their meals while Nevins did the rounds with his Eradication charms. Ron had been getting his own belongings together and occasionally chatting to Neville when he noticed that Hall was nowhere to be seen in the small, densely-foliated clearing in which they had camped for the night. He had searched around to see if Hall was still in his tent but found it had already been collapsed.

And so Ron had made an excuse to Neville and quietly scanned the surrounding area. He had already heard McGonagall's call for them to return to the clearing and resume their trip when he had found Hall, shielded by the heavy branches of a large oak, trying to stuff a parchment and quill back into his pocket when he saw Ron coming.

"I said 'Hand it over,'" Ron repeated. "Don't pretend I didn't see you!"

Hall turned around, a sardonic sneer on his face that Ron very much wanted to wipe away with his fist.

"I know who you're writing to!" he shouted, tightening the grip on his wand. "Don't try to deny it!"

Ron's strident voice had carried back into the clearing. He was relieved to hear the sound of several sets of footsteps approaching them.

"What's going on here?" demanded McGonagall crisply. "Mr. Weasley, lower your wand at once!"

Ron did not lower his wand, however, and he did not take his eyes away from Hall.

"I'll lower my wand when he hands over that parchment and quill he just tried to hide away!"

"Explain yourself, Mr. Hall," came Nevins' voice, a little more calmly than either McGonagall's or Ron's.

"I was writing to my parents," said Hall impassively, looking back at them.

"No owl communications!" Neville cried out.

Hall's lips curled up angrily. "I'm not sending it to anyone, you overstuffed hippo!" He lowered his eyes and his voice. "I want them to know what I did the last few weeks of my life in case - in case we don't make it back." He raised his head again and anger danced in his eyes. "No doubt when this is finally over, you'll all be looking forward to spending the rest of your lives as heroes. Well, my family's not going to thank me for what I'm doing! I just hoped that if they read this, maybe they'd begin to understand. Is Weasel Face satisfied now?"

"No, I'm not satisfied!" Ron shot back hotly. "You're lying! You're sending our position to the Death Eaters!"

"So I can be captured and killed along with you?"

"So _you_ can receive your reward as a hero."

"If you're so innocent," piped in Luna, in an unusually lucid manner, "why is it you have to hide here to write?"

"So I don't have loony freaks looking over my shoulder at every word I say!"

"Yeah," said Ron, "well, it's too late now!"

He lunged quickly toward Hall to wrestle the parchment out from his robes but a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his chest in restraint. As he continued to struggle, he looked up to see who had stopped him and was surprised to find it was Nevins, who seemed to possess much more strength than Ron would have imagined. When it became clear he wasn't going to win the battle, Ron relaxed his grip. After a few more moments, Nevins released him.

"That is quite enough, Mr. Weasley," said McGonagall quietly but firmly. "These are difficult times and we are all entitled to our privacy. There is no evidence that Mr. Hall planned to send that letter to anyone and you will make no further attempt to take it from him, is that clear?"

A hundred protests died on Ron's throat as he looked back at McGonagall. He knew from long experience that anything he said at this point would only make things worse.

"Yes, Professor."

"And Mr. Hall," McGonagall went on. "In future, you will address the other members of this group _respectfully_. Is that clear?"

"Absolutely, Professor," said Hall neutrally.

McGonagall stared at the whole group again, and let out a sigh.

"I hope I do not have to remind you all again that we have little hope of succeeding in our mission if we are divided. Now, we've still got a long walk ahead of us and I suggest we get started."

McGonagall turned on her heel to walk back to the camp, making it very clear that she expected to be followed without protest. And one by one they complied. Ron did not look back to Hall again but privately there was no doubt in his mind that he was a traitor. And it would be up to him to expose the threat before it was too late.

Ginny tried to keep still as Lakh'ara worked the burning edge of the ochre branch over her left cheek.

"Ginny Weasley is not hurting?" said Dobby, his ears dipping low in fearfulness.

"No, it - it doesn't really hurt. It - it tickles."

Ginny started to giggle then and Lakh'ara moved her hand away.

"I'm sorry. I expect I should keep still, shouldn't I?"

"Ginny Weasley could move but then J'k'ibir will come out in two pieces," said Dobby matter-of-factly.

"Then I won't. _N'ikkuk t!uk_," Ginny said to Lakh'ara, bowing her head respectfully, and drawing a short burst of childlike laughter from Siosia at the way her tongue still passed awkwardly over the clucking sounds in the Elfin words.

Ginny forced herself to keep still as Lakh'ara started once again to move the branch over her cheek, etching the dye into her face in the shape of the J'k'ibir, the tiny magical elfin pet, something of a cross between a snail and a worm, that was ubiquitous in the village. Many of the grown female elves wore similar designs on their faces or just behind their ears. The Ga'ga bird, the wood crawler, and the small Lumk!ib beetle whose bright blue coat now sparkled over the grass on the warmer nights, were all popular designs. Ginny had chosen the J'k'ibir, however, because it symbolized the patience she desperately wanted to cultivate.

Days blended quickly into nights in the village, and nights into days again. Ginny was no longer sure how much time had passed since that night when everything had happened - the night she had chased Malfoy into the empty classroom and learned the horrible truth that he was Voldemort - and Dobby had whisked her away to this village. It had been clear on that first night that they were somewhere further south than Hogwarts and, as a result, Ginny could not tell so precisely the passing of the seasons. But it seemed likely as the blossoms faded from the trees around the village, methodically replaced by the rich green leaves of summer, that they were probably into May now. Lupin was still gone for days at a stretch but Ginny never failed to spot him when he returned. Although Dumbledore included her in his moments of debriefing, he and Lupin always spent enough furtive and quiet moments together to make it very clear that there were many things about which she wasn't being told.

Ginny desperately wanted to have some news of - _something_. Preferably that they had received some news from Sirius (who, as far as Ginny knew, had not appeared in the village since the second day she'd arrived), or from Ron and his party, who were forbidden from contacting others. In the first few days after Dumbledore had told them how long it would be before the Hogwarts group arrived at the Lake District, Ginny had waited and waited for some sort of sign that things could be sped up: she had hardly touched the delicious food that had been prepared for her and always kept her clothes and meager belongings in one neat pile by the side of her bed as though expecting she would be called upon to leave in a hurry. But it hadn't been long before she realized that nothing was going to change very soon and that just sitting and waiting would kill her. At the same time, she saw something new every day that made her ever more curious about the strange inhabitants of the village, creatures she had thought she'd understood all of her adolescent life but now discovered she had really known nothing about at all. After watching her morose and anxious behavior from a distance, Dumbledore had gently chided her once or twice more that if she didn't try to immerse herself in this strange and wonderful culture, she would regret it later. And when finally Ginny had stopped being angry with him, she had started to listen. That and the persistent eagerness of the elfin children - especially her near constant companion Siosia - to invite her to come out and play with them.

And since the first day Ginny had decided to take the children up on their invitation, she had made every effort to immerse herself into this strange world. It had not been long before she had discovered that that wasn't very difficult to do. After feeling crushed in a school with an ever decreasing number of friends and classmates, the days and then weeks that Ginny had spent in the elfin village were wonderfully freeing. Whether it was learning new Elfin words, playing with J'k'ibir, or counting Lumk!ib at night, everything here seemed so full of color and depth. And with Siosia and her friends as constant companions, Ginny experienced everything through a child's eyes. There was something about this village that touched Ginny's soul deeply: perhaps it was because she spent her childhood growing up around nature and being here reminded her of those happy days long ago at the Burrow; perhaps it was because much of her joy of herself had been trapped in the towers of Hogwarts, imprisoned to the painful truth of her non-forgotten memories, and now it could finally be released. Whatever the case, Ginny had decided long before she had agreed to have the mark of the J'k'ibir etched on her cheek that a part of herself would always belong to this place.

Yet Ginny had spent the better part of a year clinging to the memory of her friends and her love. She was not about to forget them now - or her brother - and the danger they all faced. Indeed, sometimes there was an almost manic urgency in the way Ginny tried to find things to occupy her time lest despair take purchase on her mind again. The worst times were the nights after the children had gone to bed and Ginny was left alone with her thoughts. She had shed many sleepless tears before one night, oddly wordless, Dobby had entered her tent and placed a strange-smelling liquid beside her bed. Ginny had found it there every night since and drunk its contents to fall quickly into sleep. But there still was no potion to protect her from her waking thoughts.

As so it was when Lak'hara had finished and Ginny conjured herself a mirror to admire her handiwork that tears threatened to rush to her eyes again as she wondered whether Harry would like it. She put the mirror down and traced her fingernail over the J'k'ibir to make it walk back and forth across her face, disappear completely, and then come walking back again just as she had seen the elfin women do. Ginny knew that it would make Siosia laugh and she hoped that the sound of the laughter would force her tears away.

Ginny finally stopped playing with the J'k'ibir when she was confident she had regained her composure. She turned to Lak'hara and bowed. "_Ose_," she said, conveying her thanks.

"_Pampa Ose_," Lak'hara replied, bowing herself.

"And now Ginny will give something beautiful to Siosia," Ginny said very slowly to Siosia, making sure to catch Lak'hara's eye as well. Elves valued little else more than their children and Ginny knew that giving something to her daughter was the best way to convey her thanks for Lak'hara's beautiful work.

Siosia looked back at her mother for a moment, then nodded her understanding to Ginny. The elfin children had learned English much faster than Ginny herself had been able to learn their language.

Ginny had thought of this gift some while ago. Only the grown female elves wore the designs of the J'k'ibir, the Lumk!ib, and the Ga'ga birds on their faces, but the younger girls often wore small pendants around their necks. While the pendants varied in size and composition, each was identical in design: a small triangle enclosed by a pentagon - exactly the same design that had been inscribed on the parchment that Sirius had stolen from Umbridge. Nor wore the necklaces new; Dobby had explained to Ginny early on in her stay that the young elfin girls had been wearing them since the time he was a boy.

It unnerved Ginny that the elves had designed a representation of a magical power that dark wizards had spent a millennia trying to perfect, and that they were now trying to stop Voldemort from putting into action. There was much about elfin magic they clearly didn't know. Ginny could see what Dumbledore had meant when he had said how dangerous it would be if it fell into the wrong hands.

In spite of her misgivings about the design on the pendant, Ginny knew that Siosia very much wanted one. She had seen her eyeing them on many of the other elfin girls. Ginny wasn't at all sure her conjuring skills were up to the task but she was determined to try. She drew her wand back, then poised it in the air and concentrated hard. She wasn't sure how to begin but she found that, once she had, her wand seemed to move effortlessly through the air. It was as though she had learned the charm years ago. When she had finished, the small shape had appeared in the palm of her hand with a long, thin gold cord that tied to its top. Surprised at the success of her handiwork, Ginny picked it up and moved to place it around Siosia's neck.

But her young elfin friend immediately recoiled, her hands up in front of her and her eyes wide in concern.

"_Nuduk, Jini, nuduk!_"

Siosia waved her hands and Ginny stood back herself.

"I - I'm sorry," she said, withdrawing the necklace into her chest. "I - I didn't mean to - " She turned to Dobby for help. "I don't understand. All of the children wear it. I thought she would like - "

Dobby smiled but Ginny couldn't shake the feeling it was a false smile. And she could see that his ears had turned far down - as had Lak'hara's.

"Ginny Weasley was right," he replied. "All of the children want to wear the necklace. The pentrax frame is a part of elfin legend; and it will look beautiful on Siosia."

"Then why doesn't she want it?"

"Siosia is being humble, Ginny Weasley. It is the elfin - "

But Dobby had not finished his sentence when Siosia ran up to Ginny, took hold of her dress in her tiny fists, and looked pleadingly into her eyes.

"Siosia is not having the pentrax. Pentrax is _Jini_'s pentrax. Siosia is giving to _Jini_."

"_Nuduk, Siosia'mi J'k'ibir J'k'ibir Jini._"

"_Siosia Piyni Piyni Jini_!" said Siosia pleadingly. "Siosia is thanking Jini but Siosia is wanting to give _her_ the present."

"No, Siosia," said Ginny firmly. "It is my gift to you."

She held out the necklace again. Still clutching onto to Ginny's dress, the tiny elfin girl turned back to look at her mother, her eyes still very big. Lak'hara nodded once, then Siosia slowly bent her head down. Ginny crouched down herself and placed the necklace over Siosia's head.

Siosia took a step back. "_Ose, Ose, _Siosia is thanking you, _Jini_."

Ginny smiled, then bent down and touched her friend on the nose. She felt very relieved when Siosia giggled in response.

"_Siosia whut!tuki swilop pi!k pik!k swilop,_" said Lak'hara suddenly.

"I'm sorry," said Ginny. "It's too fast for me to - "

"It is time for Siosia's mudbath now," explained Dobby, "and then she will be having her dinner and so should Ginny Weasley! Dobby is preparing _Kl!amba'ar _for Ginny Weasley tonight!"

"Oh." Ginny tried to keep her expression neutral. She let Dobby guide her away from Siosia and her mother who started back toward their hut. Ginny turned back briefly toward them at the same time that Siosia turned back toward her and they waved to each other. But Ginny couldn't help but think that as Siosia did so, there was something about her young friend that suddenly seemed very old. She looked back across at Dobby. He was still talking animatedly but his ears remained pointed to the earth. No, she told herself. It was not her generosity that had frightened them. It was something else. Something deeper. And whatever it was, they wouldn't or couldn't tell her.

"I still don't trust him," said Ron suddenly.

Nevins turned to look at him for a moment, then took out his wand, conjured another log and directed it toward the fire.

"The fire was dying," he replied to Ron's questioning expression, "and after what you just said, I thought we might be here for quite a while longer still."

"Do you trust him?" Ron looked carefully at Nevins.

"The Sorting Hat doesn't tell us who is a thief and who is a traitor, Ron. If it did, there wouldn't be much need for Aurors."

"But all the wizards that have ever gone bad were in Slytherin!"

"Were they?" Nevins chuckled. "I think you might have fallen asleep once too often in History of Magic, Ron. Not that I blame you," he added, as an afterthought.

"Yes, but what if he really is a traitor and - and he really _is _sending messages to You-Know-Who?"

"Then we'll all find out sooner or later. What if I didn't trust anyone on this trip, Ron? Then we'd never be able to do anything. We'd be as useless as we would be caught or killed."

Ron sighed and played idly with a stick he had picked up from the ground in front of him. "I wish I could get a look at that parchment he was writing. I've spent the last week thinking up a way I could get it. I'm still trying."

Nevins smiled. "You have the heart and mind of an Auror, Ron. But perhaps not yet the vision. I - "

Nevins stopped suddenly.

"What is it?" asked Ron.

Nevins held up a hand for Ron to be silent and got to his feet, his relaxed demeanor now vanished. He took his wand out and held it in his hand, his eyes once again as sharp as a bird of prey, just as they had been on that day he had emerged from the Forbidden Forest out onto the Hogwarts grounds. Not needing to wait for further instructions, Ron stood up himself and took his wand out of his pocket.

"I heard something," said Nevins finally in a low whisper.

"Professor McGonagall?"

Nevins shook his head quickly. "No, she doesn't creep about quite like - _Expelliarmus!_"

Ron swung his head quickly in the direction where Nevins had pointed his wand. The force from the spell lit up its target long enough for Ron to catch a short, pudgy, long-nosed goblin roll into a heap underneath a birch tree on the side of their clearing.

But that was only the beginning.

Before he could react, Ron found himself shoved hard to the ground by Nevins. He heard rather than saw the sound of many objects whistling through the air. Suddenly, the world around them exploded into flame and light and the ominous sound of many things exploding at once. Ron screwed his eyes shut as dirt and embers from the fire flew quickly toward his face. He felt Nevins drag him up by the scruff of his collar and pull him over to safety behind the tree where he had shot down their first assailant.

Only then did Ron stand up to look at what had happened. He immediately wished he hadn't. Their entire camp was surrounded. At least a dozen attackers, maybe more - all goblins - held bright blue balls in their arms, each about the size of a Quaffle. As Ron watched, they threw them into the center of the camp. Several hit the ground but three or four landed on the pitched tents where the others now lay sleeping, erupting on contact into balls of flame. Ron quickly joined Nevins in letting off a volley of hexes at their attackers but he could only watch as tongues of flame leapt quickly up the sides of the tents like waves in an angry storm. Within seconds, they were completely engulfed.

_Ginny was running quickly. The village was all asleep - or perhaps it was deserted. It didn't seem to matter now. Nothing seemed to matter._

_Her feet were already on fire from running over the hard mud and earth but as soon as they touched the grass of the center space, they felt cool again. Even the flames from the brightly burning triangle sent nothing but waves of ice up Ginny's body._

_But then his arms were warm again. Not the horrible stinging warmth of the hard earth. A soft, gentle, nourishing warmth like the edge of a fire on a crisp winter's night. She had forgotten that warmth, banished it from her mind so that she could be sheltered from the pain of her own longing. But now she had no need to fear that._

_Harry was back. The triangle had delivered him to her. And all Ginny could hope was that nothing would wrench them apart again._

_Harry released her grip finally but still held protectively onto her shoulders with his hands. Ginny found her eyes were moist and blurred from tears of relief. She quickly wiped away the tears in her sleeve so that she could focus properly on Harry's face._

_It was him all right - his glasses, his scar, his untidy mop of hair - they were all there. And he was smiling back at her._

_"Oh, H-H-Harry," she sobbed. "You don't know what a relief it is t-t-to finally see you again. I-I-I've - "_

_Emotion quickly overcame Ginny and stopped her flow of words. She rushed forward and buried herself in Harry's bosom. He clutched his arms around her again very tightly._

_"I've been waiting, too, Ginny," he said. "For a long time. Waiting for you."_

_Ginny felt a sudden chill sweep through her body again. She released herself and looked back upwards at Harry. There was something not quite about the way he was talking. She had expected that her emotion would be returned in kind but his voice seemed slow and stilted, as though he was reciting the lines of a play for the first time._

_"Harry, are you all right?" Ginny said suddenly, the tears quickly drying on her eyes._

_"Yes, Ginny, I am all right. Why wouldn't I be? All the pieces of my destiny are complete now. Of our destiny, Ginny."_

_Ginny took a step backward. "Harry?" she said cautiously._

_"And he's not alone. We are all here now."_

_Ginny gasped. From out of another corner of the triangle, as though just having stepped out of the shadows, walked Draco Malfoy._

_"Harry!" she said pleadingly. "We've got to get away. _He's _Lord Voldemort! He's trying to capture me! We can't let him stay here. We can't let him find out about the elves and their magic."_

_"I quite agree, Ginny," said Harry, but still without passion. He turned to Malfoy. "Malfoy, you are our enemy. You must not find the secret of the elves. I will fight to protect them."_

_"As you wish, Potter," came an equally flat reply. "But that game isn't important anymore."_

_"You are right, Malfoy," replied Harry. He turned back to Ginny who found herself retreating further away from both of them. "There is only one game that matters. And we are all pawns in that game, the game we play for all wizard kind. We are the three corners of the triangle. Without our game, everything else will die."_

_"I am the god," said Malfoy._

_"I am the hero," said Harry._

_Both of them looked to Ginny. She had the none too comforting impression that she was supposed to say something next. But she wasn't at all sure what that could be._

_"Have you forgotten your lines, Ginny?" Harry asked. "Don't you know what you are? Your memory was not altered. Don't you remember the prophecy?"_

_"Prophecy?" said Ginny dumbly._

_"Trelawney's prophecy," said Malfoy. "We were all there. We all heard it."_

_"I am the god," said Malfoy again. "And like all gods what I want can only come at a terrible price to all humans."_

_"I am the hero," said Harry. "I am the only one who can stand up to the god. But to do so, _I_ must pay the price. I must give up what I value most. That is the prophecy. And that is you, Ginny. You are the sacrifice."_

_Ginny wanted to walk much further away from both Harry and Malfoy now but found that she couldn't. The walls of flame surrounding the triangle had grown much higher and the three of them stood trapped inside. She looked over to Harry for any sign of affection or resistance but he continued to regard her with icy detachment. She was about to cry out for help but then another voice rang out sharply from somewhere out in the night outside._

_"Can we really afford to take the chance, Albus? You know what's at stake if he finds us!"_

_"Professor Lupin!" Ginny called out. "Professor Lupin, where are - "_

Ginny awoke and immediately sat bolt upright in her small feathered bed.

It had been a dream - a nightmare. Not a vision from Voldemort, she decided, but rather her own mind reminding her of horrors she had succeeded in pushing to the back of her thoughts. She had forgotten about Trelawney's prophecy.

Ginny tried to calm her racing heart. Prophecies didn't always come true, she tried to tell herself. And considering the source. It definitely wasn't anything Ginny should be worried about. Even if she -

Ginny's thoughts stopped abruptly as a sound caught her ear. There were voices nearby, low whispering voices. Was this what had woken her up? But who -

" - yes but Kreacher is an elf, Albus! He has their powers and he can penetrate their hiding places. If - "

Ginny struggled to catch the end but the voice lowered again and the end of the sentence became incomprehensible. But she recognized the speaker: it was Professor Lupin. It had been her conscious mind that had heard his voice and pulled it into her dream. He must have just returned and from the sound of things, he was very agitated.

The whispers stopped for a moment and then Ginny heard another voice - even lower than Lupin's, but slower and somewhat calmer. Dumbledore. And his words were far too quiet to make out.

Without thinking twice, Ginny rose from her bed and reached for her cloak. Not stopping to put on her shoes, she stepped swiftly but noiselessly from her hut and out onto the muddy pathway that ran alongside it.

It must have been quite late and most of the village seemed to be sleeping, but a dim light still shone through the large central hut next to hers. It took Ginny only a moment to ascertain that the voices were coming from inside. She quickly crept over the grassy patch facing it, feeling the coolness on her feet as she had in her dream. Ignoring a shudder, she made her way over to the side of the tent taking care that her shadow did not pass over the doorway. She dearly wished Fred and George could have been there to lend her a pair of Extendable Ears, yet it soon became apparent that with the flimsiness of the structure she was leaning against, it was not difficult to hear every word.

"You have too little faith, Remus," said Dumbledore.

"And you have too much!" came the sharp whispered retort. "Voldemort would not think twice about turning this village and everything in it to dust in order to get to Ginny!"

"Do you think I've not thought of this, my friend?"

There was a pause. Lupin seemed at a loss for words, and having been in enough conversations with Dumbledore herself, Ginny felt she could heartily identify with him.

It was Dumbledore who spoke again next:

"Are you quite sure it was Kreacher?"

Ginny felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. _Kreacher?_

"Certain of it. This Death Eater was particularly talkative. I overheard him mentioning Kreacher by name. He's helping Voldemort to banish Sirius and find Ginny. Albus, he knows she's in an elf village; he just doesn't know which one or how to get to it. But Kreacher could: he's an elf; he possesses the magical ability to find and enter the village!"

"But there are many elfin villages, Remus. One of the other elves would have to tell him she was here and I don't believe that anyone in this village would be willing to do that."

"But how can you be sure?"

"I can't, not absolutely, but very few things are absolute. What would you have me do then?"

"Take Ginny and hide! Take her _anywhere_! Away from England if you must."

"As soon as we leave this village, we are vulnerable to goblin intelligence. They will find her and tell Voldemort exactly where she is. He may even have the ability to sense us. I cannot risk it; I'm sorry. While Ginny is still at large, Voldemort will be distracted. He will not able to completely focus his time and resources on preparing for the arc to return. And I don't think I need to remind you that we need any advantage we can gain at this point. As soon as he has her, that advantage is gone."

"But if we take her away from here, then we can make certain the village will be safe! Voldemort would have no interest in it; he already has Kreacher."

"If Voldemort succeeds, Remus, there will be nothing of this village left in any case."

The conversation paused again. The only sound Ginny could hear was the sharp pounding of blood through her head.

"Is that how you justify it?" Remus's sentence came out in a hoarse and tired-sounding whisper. "Will that be your consolation when they've all been killed? Will you pontificate before the school about their noble deaths? Or might you see this for what it is: _another sad chapter in the exploitation of those different from wizard kind?"_

"_Remus, calm yourself, please_!" Dumbledore responded, sounding less than composed for the first time. "Do you really imagine that I would stand by while Voldemort endangers the life of even one elf in this village? Or finds the secret to their power? That is the last thing I would _ever _want! But the alternatives are far more risky. You must have faith, Remus, faith in the elves, and faith in our plans."

Whether Dumbledore's response succeeded in mollifying Professor Lupin, Ginny never discovered. For at that point, she moved her ear away from the side of the hut and walked back across the grass to her own. It took all her willpower not to run and not to scream, let alone to make no sound at all. Once she had stepped back inside, she wound her feather blanket around and around into noiseless knots in her fists, trying to find some way to release the rage that now coursed through her veins.

She was not going to give Albus Dumbledore the opportunity to explain himself to her again. It was obvious to Ginny that she and everyone she had grown to love in this village were nothing but pawns in Dumbledore's grand schemes, schemes she no longer believed he could put into action, at least not without great cost.

And so when Ginny had finally released most of her anger and untangled her sweating palms from the blanket, she knew immediately what she had to do. Whatever Dumbledore thought, she was no longer a child; she was certainly not going to be a player in any more games - not Voldemort's and not Dumbledore's. She was going to follow her conscience. She was going to do exactly what Lupin had suggested. She was going to leave this village and she was going to leave now. She knew she could not afford to stay another moment. Where she would go, Ginny did not know. And if Malfoy captured her, then so be it. But she would not let any harm come to the elves or the village.

Ginny stood up and quickly gathered her belongings into a pile. She fought to steady the rush of adrenalin that had replaced her anger long enough to conjure a small bag in which she magically fit all of the clothes the elves had woven for her. She then strung it to her back and, almost as an afterthought, slipped on her sandals, then cautiously walked out of her hut once more.

The village still seemed quiet. Ginny considered taking a circuitous path around the side of the village where she couldn't be spotted by Dumbledore or Lupin but then decided against it: she had never really gotten the hang of the labyrinth of passageways that led in between the huts and was unlikely to master it in the pitch dark. Taking one cautious look back at the main hut, Ginny walked back down the central pathway leading away from the village center, retracing the steps she had followed with Dobby now many weeks before.

She half-expected Dobby to come running up alongside her, wondering what she was doing. Or that Dumbledore and Lupin would emerge quickly from their hut to entreat to her return. But neither of these things happened. Ginny began to breathe more easily as her distance increased from the village's center. She had almost passed the last row of huts when she became aware that she was not alone. One single small figure stood in the darkness at the center of the path ahead of her, just outside her parents' hut. It was as though Siosia had known she would be coming.

"_Nayak Liopy'ah Siosia Cl!k," _whispered Ginny. "It is well past Siosia's bedtime."

"Jini is leaving."

Ginny looked down into the limpid, unhesitant eyes of her little friend and sighed. She knelt down to the ground and looked straight across at her. She didn't want to tell the truth but she knew she could not lie either - not after so many of the adults in her life had spent much of her childhood lying to her.

"Ginny doesn't want to leave," she said, "but Ginny has no other choice. Ginny has to leave so Siosia can be safe."

Ginny expected Siosia to argue with her or not understand but the elfin child slowly nodded. Her eyes had a sad but strangely knowing look. She bowed her head, took off the pentrax necklace Ginny had conjured for her, and held it out to her.

"Ginny must taking this necklace. Ginny must not forgetting Siosia."

But Ginny shook her head. "_N'ose, Siosia,_" she said. "That is Siosia's necklace. And Ginny will never forget Siosia."

But having given in to Ginny's resolve to leave, Siosia did not seem willing to concede so quietly this time.

"Necklace being Jini's!" she said, far too loudly for Ginny's liking, and held it out once again.

"A - all right, Siosia," said Ginny, fearful that her friend would wake someone else up. "_Ose_."

Ginny took the necklace from Siosia and placed it around her neck inside her dress. To her surprise, the short, gold cord which she had conjured for her friend seemed to magically enlarge until it was a perfect fit for Ginny.

Siosia continued to look at Ginny but now seemed content to let her go. Ginny walked past her but after a few steps, she looked back again to see that Siosia was still watching her.

"Jini will coming back to our village," she said. It did not seem like a question.

Ginny felt a lump in her throat and found herself nodding. "Yes, Siosia. One day, I will come back. I promise."

And then Ginny turned away again. This time she did not look back. She walked out of the village and climbed up the hill that she and Dobby had walked down the first night she was there. She hesitated only for a moment as she reached the top and stared out into the deep, thick forest that surrounded her on three sides. She was about to keep walking when she heard a thick flurry of feathers and gasped as a familiar snowy-white owl landed on her shoulder.

"Hedwig!" she said. Her eyes narrowed. "You haven't come to bring me back, have you?"

In response, Hedwig looked at her innocently, then bent down to affectionately nip at her hand.

"All right," said Ginny. "You can come. It's just you and I now, Hedwig." Ginny took out her wand and aimed it into the forest. "The Lake District. Point Me," she said.

The wand turned ahead and slightly to the left. The young witch took a deep breath, and then followed its path to an uncertain fate.


	19. Traitors And False Trails

**Chapter 19**

**Traitors and False Trails**

Ron watched in horror as the goblins moved forward into the clearing. He hexed one or two but more came stomping methodically behind them, each raising a fireball to strike. He watched as one raised his explosive to land another blow to the nearest tent which was already engulfed in flames. Ron sprinted forward to get a clear shot at him but his arm was restrained by Nevins.

"Look!" he said.

The flaps of all three tents were slowly opening now and their occupants were rushing out. Most were coughing, their eyes smarting from the smoke all around them, but one or two were not so fortunate. Ron felt his heart stop as he heard Parvati's familiar shriek and saw that the back of her cloak was engulfed in flames. McGonagall's long hat and velvet cloak then came into view: both were on fire. She tried to roll on the ground to snuff out the flames but they were spreading too fast.

Before Ron could react, Nevins jumped out into the clearing and aimed his wand at Parvati.

"_Consistum Inflammare!" _he cried.

A sharp white jet of smoke erupted from the end of his wand and struck Parvati, immediately extinguishing the fire. Nevins neatly parried another goblin strike and aimed the same spell at McGonagall. The fire went out around her as well but the deputy headmistress slumped to the ground and continued to lay there unconscious. Nevins tried to hoist her up but was forced to jump back as another of the fireballs exploded inches away from them.

Ron watched as Nevins cast his anti-fire charms into the raging blazes around him, desperately trying to beat the flames back before they erupted anew. He had managed to douse the flames on one tent but a new explosion erupted just in front of him.

Ron didn't notice much more. He was too busy himself continuing to launch hexes at the goblins throwing the blue balls. He sensed someone helping him and was grateful to see Parvati at his side, her face covered in soot, but otherwise apparently unharmed. More shots rang out around them and Ron spotted Harmon crouching with Neville and Luna behind another tree. They ducked and Luna screamed, however, as a fireball landed just in front of them. Ron was still watching when he felt Parvati yank him to the ground as a fireball skimmed his head and landed in some bushes behind them.

Finally, they began to get the better of the goblins, but the fires continued to rage all around them. It seemed Nevins was the only one who knew the dousing charm and try as he might, he couldn't keep up with all the fires. Ron raised his head in time to see that Neville, Luna, and Harmon had fled to the other side of the clearing. It seemed they had avoided the fireball but they were now too far away to be effective in shooting down the remaining goblins. Ron felt a hot wall of flame as the ball that had exploded behind him began to work its way through the surrounding bushes and trees. Parvati tugged anxiously at his arm but Ron refused to budge. He had not saved his friends from one towering furnace that night in the Gryffindor common room only to have them succumb to another. He stepped further forward into the clearing and took aim at the nearest goblin with the hardest hex he could conjure. The goblin went flying but his on-rushing comrade quickly snatched up his fireball and rushed toward Nevins and McGonagall like a Chaser to the hoop.

"No!" cried Ron.

He threw a hex toward the goblin but it was too late. The fireball was heading quickly toward Nevins' head. Ron desperately took aim at the on-rushing bomb, trying to remember Nevins' dousing charm but then he heard Parvati scream and felt himself wrestled to the ground again. Another goblin had emerged to their immediate right and lobbed a fireball right on top of where he had been standing only moments before. The ball managed to miss but Ron felt his wand fly out of his hand and heard it land somewhere in the knarled, burning undergrowth. With Parvati still on top of him, all he could do was turn his head and watch as the three remaining goblins ambled right up to Nevins and McGonagall. Nevins hexed one but the other two raised their fireballs over their heads and swung down hard. Ron didn't want to watch but his eyes seemed unable to move. Finally, with the fireballs less than inches away from exploding on top of Nevins, he let out a hoarse cry which Ron couldn't catch. A split-second later, a bright orange light engulfed both he and McGonagall and the two fireballs bounced away from them and back at their attackers. The goblins had no time to duck as their own weapons struck them hard and exploded.

Nevins quickly got to his feet and waved his wand in the sky. The first thing he did was try to extinguish the fires that had immolated his two attackers but it was quickly obvious they were beyond all hope. He then walked around the camp, casting shielding charms to contain the fire and smoke and then extinguishing the remaining flames. Parvati finally moved away from where she had been laying on top of Ron and he slowly and painfully got to his feet. He felt immensely relieved when McGonagall poked her head up from the ground and rose slowly into a sitting position. Nevins rushed over to her side and then slumped to the ground himself in exhaustion.

Ron tried to walk over to where they were sitting but his own legs didn't feel so steady. His right hip hurt from where Parvati had pulled him down but, under the circumstances, things could have been worse. Parvati herself seemed only able to sit and, from what Ron could see in the dark, she looked a complete mess: her normally long hair was almost completely singed off and there were several nasty looking scars on her face, but at least she was still conscious. Ron turned his head slowly and watched as Harmon, Neville, and Luna came running into the clearing.

"Is everyone all right?" cried Harmon. "Wherever did those things come from?"

He helped Nevins to his feet. McGonagall continued to lie on the ground for a moment but then awkwardly stood up.

"They're scattered throughout the forests, I expect," replied Nevins. "They must have been watching us and waiting for the opportunity."

"Is everyone here?" croaked McGonagall.

"Hall!" said Ron suddenly.

As if on cue, Hall and Ernie emerged from behind a set of bushes just beyond the tents. Both looked a bit singed and blackened, but not as bad off as McGonagall and Parvati.

"Thank heavens for that," said Harmon.

"We seem to have all been very lucky," said Ron, looking directly at Hall, "under the circumstances."

"_Very_ lucky, Weasley," said Hall, his eyes meeting the challenge.

"All the same," said Nevins quickly, either not noticing or not willing to address the pregnant looks Ron and Hall were giving one another, "we'd better treat our injuries quickly and move along under cover of darkness. There are probably more about and they would have been alerted by the fire."

A sudden groan issued from somewhere behind the trees. Nevins' eyes widened and he drew out his wand again. Harmon and Ron quickly followed, and McGonagall made an effort to bring up the rear.

They quickly found the source of the groan. The goblin Nevins had originally stunned still lay in a heap under the trees. He opened his eyes groggily to find three wands pointed at him.

"Who ordered you to do this?" asked Nevins. "Was it You-Know-Who? Has he formed an alliance with you?"

The goblin looked groggily up at Nevins for a moment, then broke into a strange sort of smile.

"Filth," he croaked. "Savages! Are you going to torture the truth out of me? Cowards! Running and hiding from your crimes."

The four of them recoiled as the goblin cleared his throat and delivered a wad of spittle at their feet.

"We're not going to torture you," said Nevins, his voice calm but firm. "We just want to know who asked you to do this."

The goblin snorted. "You may have won the battle today, wizard, but we will not stop until we have avenged our innocents. You would torture and kill our young ones and then ask why we attack you?"

The goblin's smile faded. He began to rub his hands together and murmur to himself. Nevins leaned in closer for a moment, then his eyes widened in horror.

"Look out!" he cried.

He pushed the others quickly away and Ron found himself shoved hard to the ground for the third time in less than ten minutes. An explosion rang out right in front of him. When he looked up, he saw a towering inferno where the goblin had sat under a tree only a moment before.

"_Consistum Inflammare!" _Nevins cried.

The fire vanished but it was already too late. Nothing was left of the goblin's body but a smoldering husk.

"Wh - what in Merlin's name?" started McGonagall, turning away from the immolated body in horror. "What could have made him do that? That's not in the character of a goblin at all. And what - what was he talking about 'avenge our innocents?'"

"Did You-Know-Who do this?" asked Harmon.

Nevins turned to them, a very grave expression on his face.

"Oh, yes, Counselo, You-Know-Who did this. We spent years worrying about You-Know-Who forming an alliance with the goblins. It seems that what we feared he might do through manipulation and Legilimency, he has accomplished rather more easily with a mass Memory Charm."

"You mean - " McGonagall gasped.

"Yes, Minerva," said Nevins gravely. "Voldemort can turn any creature against us simply by altering their memories. We've broken out of the memory fields but they haven't. We may never have tortured and killed their young but if that is what they remember, then Voldemort would need little persuasion to turn them to his service."

"What can we do?" asked Harmon.

"Leave here as quickly as possible and take extra precautions. From now on, we travel only by night. If we're attacked while we've put up camp, then at least we'll be able to see them."

And they us, thought Ron, but he agreed it was the best way.

Harmon and McGonagall seemed to agree also, and the four of them quickly returned to the others. Before they had reached the clearing, however, McGonagall stopped Nevins. Ron, who was just in front of them, stopped walking himself, and listened.

"Andrew, a word," she said somberly. "I don't have to tell you I owe you my life but I will not have anyone in this group taking any more unnecessary risks. Is that clear?"

There was a pause. Ron desperately wanted to turn around to see the look on Nevins' face but he decided against it.

"As you said, Minerva," Nevins finally replied. "I saved your life."

Ron heard Nevins start walking quickly again. After a few short strides, he had caught Ron up.

"Funny thing," Nevins muttered. "I never thought I had the nerve to rush into fire like that. But, you know, it was almost easy."

There was a strange, faraway smile on Nevins' face as he spoke. Ron decided right away that he didn't like it at all.

Ginny tensed herself again. This time, she felt certain she had heard something. She forced herself to make no noise for what seemed like several minutes. Only when her chest began to tighten did she realize she was holding her breath.

It had been nearly two weeks since she had left the elf village. By day she moved through thick dense forests, over unexpected marshes, and through the tall biting grass of the occasional meadow. She had no idea how much progress she had made, only that she continued to move in the direction her wand was pointing her, toward Malfoy's hideout. She didn't know what she expected to do if she reached it. She had a vague notion of running into Ron and his group but didn't know where they were in relation to her or when they would both arrive there. Many of her clothes were now damp from the rain and her drying charms never fully seemed to work. The days were sometimes warm but the nights still cool. Ginny had managed to conjure herself a modest tent, really only a covering to keep out the rain, but it didn't make it much warmer. And then there were all the strange sounds in the night and even sometimes during the day. Ginny was constantly battling the feeling she was being stalked, whether by Death Eaters or magical predators she did not know.

Hedwig had remained faithfully at her side. There were times when her companionship was the only thing that kept Ginny together and gave her the courage to keep moving on. But Ginny had to admit to herself that there were times when she'd been sorely tempted to use Hedwig to contact Dumbledore and Lupin and beg them to help her return to the elfin village. Yet whenever she came close to doing so, she would see the village in flames, hooded Death Eaters running amidst burning huts, and Siosia's sad eyes looking up at her, a flash of green light, and horrible sickening laughter. No, she'd decided many times. She couldn't and she wouldn't let it happen, whatever her misery. She was going to press on.

But she wished there was another way.

"Honestly, Hermione," said Lavender, sounding exasperated. "You're always very good with maths but you don't seem to know this at all. It's like you were never in class today or something."

"You know full well I was in class today with you, Lavender," replied Hermione, trying to sound indignant. "I was sitting right across from you. I - I suppose my mind might have been on something else, though."

"But your mind is never on anything else but schoolwork!" Lavender looked at her suspiciously.

"Well, maybe you could gather up the remaining little bits of your mind and try to understand it all yourself for once!"

"But, Hermione, you know I'm hopeless at maths! Besides, I'm different from you: I've got a boyfriend to think about. And I - "

Lavender was stopped in mid-sentence as the bedtime buzzer sounded and the lights went out.

"I suppose you'll have to work it out yourself, after all," said Hermione, grateful that the darkness had concealed her smile. "Good night, Lavender."

Lavender hit her fists against her bed once or twice. She also made some pouting noises which Hermione thought made her sound like a goldfish that hadn't been fed. She was reasonably docile, however, by the time Sister Owens came in to check on them and it wasn't long before she started up with her obnoxious snoring. Hermione was extremely tempted to try out one of the Silencing Charms Sirius had just finished teaching them but she knew this was neither the time nor the place to start re-teaching Lavender magic.

As usual, Hermione didn't sleep right away and not just because she was kept awake by her roommate's snoring. In truth, Hermione had spent very little of the day thinking about the content of her lessons. Of course, she had been with Sirius and Harry during math but even later that day when her body had been present at the remainder of the lessons, her mind had not strayed far from her magical class.

After many weeks perfecting smaller charms, Sirius had started teaching them hexing with earnest. Though she had never thought of herself as a violent person, Hermione had felt a giddy satisfaction the first time she'd successfully blown up the mock prison fence that Sirius had conjured. Harry had also seemed very satisfied after landing a series of Stunning Spells on one of Sirius's wooden dummies.

It was obvious what this meant, of course: they were getting closer to mastering the magic they needed to break out of this school - and alone, if necessary. For while Sirius still planned to use his superior magical abilities to help in their escape, it was obvious that his own health was fading. Or something. Hermione didn't really understand what was wrong with him. He displayed no real symptoms of a sick person. It was like he was constantly under attack from some invisible force. Sometimes, he would wheeze and wince as though he'd been punched in the stomach; at others, he would go deathly pale. Once or twice, Hermione could swear he'd gone almost transparent. She knew that wasn't possible, of course, but then many impossible things had happened already.

The attacks on Sirius had become more and more frequent as the weeks had passed. Sirius told them there could be no doubt that their enemies - Umbridge and this Moldy-mort, whoever he was - would succeed in "expelling" him sooner or later. Harry was very worried about the attacks, of course, and so was she. But neither really understood what was happening to Sirius and they continued to be frustrated about the lack of clear answers.

To his credit, Sirius had told them much, just as he had promised. And it was the stuff of an incredible fairytale fantasy: she and Harry had been identified as children with magical abilities and chosen to attend a castle-like school deep in the Scottish Highlands where, instead of normal subjects like maths, English, or science, they learned about Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts (whatever that meant), Charms, and so on. Moldy-mort, some sort of monster that had killed Harry's parents, and had been killed several times himself but somehow never really died, was now channeling one of their old classmates. He had altered their memories and trapped them in this school - which wasn't a real school at all but a place from Harry's nightmares projected into a sort of other dimension.

Part of Hermione still wanted to stay as far away from Sirius as possible. Yet she also knew she simply couldn't dismiss it all as nonsense. For one thing, she couldn't deny the obvious fact that she and Harry remembered things the other students didn't, or that they alone remembered them differently. Either way someone was deluded and something terribly strange had happened.

But even if she did take Sirius at his word, there were still things he wasn't telling them. What exactly was this Moldy-mort doing to him? Why didn't it affect them or anyone else in the school? And where would he go if he was expelled? Back to this castle? Somehow Hermione didn't really think so, and Sirius obviously didn't want to say. But then why would he tell them everything else and not this?

Hermione was still churning over unanswered questions in her mind when she was finally overtaken by sleep.

"Ron! Ron, wake up!"

"Goblins... goblins... spiders... _Death Eaters_."

"Ron! No, not goblins and not spiders! _Wake up!"_

Ron suddenly snapped his eyes open, wide awake, as Neville shook his shoulder hard.

"Steady on, mate! What did you do that - "

Neville placed a finger to his lips.

"What?" asked Ron in a whisper.

"Did you hear that?" Neville whispered in an even lower voice.

"No - hear - "

Ron stopped himself. A low, quiet, but unmistakable sound of a hooting owl was coming from somewhere nearby. Ron stared back at Neville, then both boys quickly got out of their beds. They rushed from the tent and found themselves temporarily blinded by the late afternoon sun, the inside of the tent having been charmed into total darkness so they could sleep during the daytime.

As soon as their eyes had adjusted, they could see that all of the others had already left their tents and were gathered in a circle around the camp.

"Did you hear it?" Ron asked McGonagall.

"Quiet, Mr. Weasley!" she retorted sharply.

They all stood silently for several moments and then another low hooting sound emerged.

"There's something up in that tree!" cried Luna, pointing to a large oak just inside the forest.

The others had noticed it, too. The tree was nearest to Hall and he began to sprint toward it.

"No!" cried Nevins. "You'll scare it away!"

He quickly followed chase, Ron, Neville, Luna, Parvati, and Ernie close behind. But true to Nevins' word, whatever had been in the tree was quickly alerted. There was another sharp hooting sound and then the rapid flutter of large wings. Ron quickly looked up in the sky but he could see nothing. Nothing in the other trees either, except some small frightened sparrows.

On Nevins' suggestion, most of the group split up and searched through the nearby forest, but it was soon apparent that the trail had grown quickly cold. They retreated to the meadow where McGonagall and Harmon were waiting. While the deputy headmistress had long since recovered from her injuries in the goblin attack, she now looked as pale and worried as she had that night.

"I trust no one was visited by the owl," she said. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you how dangerous it would be if one of us was in communication with the outside world."

Ron could contain himself no longer. "So it didn't reach you this time," he said, staring at Hall. "I wonder how many other times we didn't hear it."

"I'm sorry, _Mr. _Weasley," he responded. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"That owl was coming for you, wasn't it?" Ron shot back, "_with a message! _Or it expected you were going to send one out. Advertising our position so the goblins could attack again?"

"If it was coming for me, Weasel Head, it had a funny way of showing it. That tree isn't anywhere near my tent."

"Maybe it didn't have the chance yet," replied Parvati, adjusting her long re-grown hair. "We scared it off. If we hadn't, it still might have found you."

"It was _you_ who went running after it," added Neville. "Maybe you wanted to make sure it wasn't found."

"Enough - all of you!" snapped McGonagall sharply, though Ron felt heartened she had let the conversation continue as long as it had. "I've warned you once and I'm warning you again: there will be no more ganging up on Mr. Hall. I cannot afford to assume that anyone in this group is lying. If none of you say you are using an owl, then I will assume that none of you are."

"But, Professor," said Ron, as calmly as he could, "it's been two weeks since we were attacked. If someone was communicating with the Death Eaters, then they wouldn't need to use the goblins anymore. They could wait until we were at our most vulnerable and prepare an ambush for us - using goblins, an army of Death Eaters, anything. That would explain why they've been waiting."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley," replied McGonagall, "and I understand your concern. But there are other possibilities. I have to hope that the added precautions Professor Nevins has put into place has thrown the goblins - and anyone else - off our trail."

"But Professor Nevins said the other day he was surprised we hadn't encountered more resistance this far into our journey!"

Ron's face turned red as he turned to Nevins. He wasn't sure he would have liked Ron to share that admission, but under the circumstances, Ron felt he had no other choice. If Hall was betraying them, they had to be fully prepared.

"It's true," said Nevins a little hesitantly as McGonagall looked over in his direction. "It does surprise me. It's possible, as Ron says, that we're being watched and the goblins or the Death Eaters are waiting for the right moment to capture or kill us. But that doesn't mean that any of us is a traitor. It's possible the owl was sent as a test to see if we'd respond to a message that would give away our position. I suggest we prepare better. Should it return again, we will trick it and capture it - quietly." He cast a sidelong glance at Hall.

"I'm sorry I ran," said Hall, after a moment's pause. "But I'm not sending messages to anyone. I'm not your traitor. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's a little stifling out here."

He turned angrily on his heel to march back to his tent.

"One moment, Mr. Hall," said McGonagall sharply. "I have not finished. You are part of this group and you are going to hear what I have to say."

Hall stopped walking but he did not turn around to face the others.

"As Mr. Weasley has just noted, we haven't very much of our journey left. I will not pretend I imagine all of the dangers that await us but, whatever happens, we're going to face them united. Now I suggest we all return to our tents and try to get back to sleep. We've a long night's journey ahead of us."

"Concentrate, Harry! See yourself completing the hex in your mind and say clearly: _Dissectum!"_

"_Dissectum_!" Harry shouted. A small burst of blue light flew out of the end of his wand and seared a hole in the makeshift fence, but it wasn't enough for a person to fit through.

"And again!" shouted Sirius.

"_Dissectum_!" Harry cried, a bit louder this time.

He was almost blown backwards by the force of the hex that emitted from his wand. The makeshift fence exploded into several pieces which went swinging around the classroom. Hermione screamed and ducked as one piece flew near her face. Another imbedded itself the blackboard at the front of the classroom with a loud crash.

"Oh, dear," said Sirius. "It seems I'll have a bit of covering up to do. Still," he clapped his hands together and grinned broadly. "Excellent, Harry. And you, too, Hermione."

Harry slumped back exhausted onto the seat nearest him. Hermione was already sitting down.

"You've made tremendous progress just in the last week," Sirius went on.

"I practiced visualizing just like you suggested," said Harry, panting a little.

"And it seems to have worked. Visualizing is the most difficult part of any spell casting, Harry. That and concentration. It's easy to shout some words and point your wand at something. Of course, doing them all at the same time is a bit of a trick, too, but you both seem to be managing it. All we have left to do is make sure it doesn't take so much out of you. It's no good to find yourself completely drained in the middle of - "

Sirius gave a sharp intake of breath and slumped quickly to his knees. Harry and Hermione both knew what this meant by now: they had become used to the "attacks." Nonetheless, both of them got to their feet and rushed over to his side. And they did not expect what happened next: they were within inches of Sirius when he became enveloped in a bright, white light. Both Harry and Hermione found themselves shoved back to the floor as though pushed by a pair of invisible hands.

Harry winced in pain as his head connected hard with the side of one of the desks but he forced himself to look up again immediately. A bright snowy white haze was surrounding Sirius. He seemed to grow almost smaller, as though he was receding away from them. And there was something else that was happening, too; Harry had seen him do this once before but he'd told himself he'd just been imagining things. Now it was unmistakable: Sirius was _fading away_. He grew more and more transparent until finally Harry could see straight through his body to the dented blackboard on the other side of the room. All this time his godfather looked back at him, his teeth clenched in determination and his hands pressed down on either side of the floor as though he could keep himself in this world by simply hanging on.

"Fight it, Sirius!" cried Harry.

"You've got to hold on!" said Hermione.

Harry tried to move nearer to Sirius but he found himself pushed back again as though repelled by an invisible aura surrounding his godfather. He pushed hard against it again but the harder he pressed the more forcefully he was pushed back.

"Don't, Harry!" cried Hermione. "It'll only hurt you!"

"Sirius!" Harry cried out again. "Just hold on!"

Harry locked eyes with his godfather. He could see he had every will in the world to remain exactly where he was but still he was fading. Then suddenly, the blackboard behind him began to disappear again. Harry was afraid he was indulging in false hope but then Hermione said:

"He's coming back!"

Sirius was definitely becoming more and more solid. Finally, Harry couldn't see the blackboard through him at all. The white light began to fade and finally vanished completely. With an almighty roar, Sirius's hands found the ground and he barreled forward. The force of his upward momentum carried him out toward Harry. He cannoned into his godson and both fell to the floor in a heap.

"Are you all right?" asked Hermione, rushing over.

Sirius quickly pulled himself away from Harry, got to his feet, then collapsed onto the floor again.

"Sirius!" cried Harry and Hermione.

Sirius's eyes opened and closed groggily. "Hello," he said. "Has our class expanded? I can see at least six of you now."

"Get him over to the chair!" said Hermione.

Harry and Hermione awkwardly moved Sirius over to one of the desk chairs. His eyes closed for a moment but then opened wide again. He began to cough loudly.

"Let's get you some water," suggested Hermione.

"No, no, I'll be fine," croaked Sirius. "Really fine. Besides, I don't drink water."

"What happened?" said Harry. "They tried to take you again?"

"And they very nearly succeeded," said Sirius. "It's like being flushed down a drain. They almost had me this time."

"You look very pale," said Hermione.

"I shouldn't wonder. Still, I'll be all right in a minute. But I don't think I can hold this out for too much longer."

Harry felt himself go very pale. "Wh - what do you mean?"

"They're sure to try again, Harry; they've been getting stronger with each attack. It's like trying to pull a splinter out from your finger. You feel a bit desperate at first but as you get a better hold of it, you keep trying to pull until finally the whole thing comes out. I expect that's very much what I am to them - a splinter, something that doesn't belong in their otherwise flawless world."

"But there must be something we can do to resist them!" Hermione protested. "After all, we're not just lifeless bits of wood; we're people!"

"Something of the sort, yes," agreed Sirius. "And there is something we can do - get you out of this school. Tonight."

"T - tonight," said Harry, his mouth wide in surprise. "B - but you said - "

"Yes, Harry," said Sirius, smiling weakly. "It would have been better to wait another week - at least. You still have to learn to keep your strength up after each hex, but, under the circumstances, we'll just have to hope the adrenalin will keep you going. But you both know what you did to that fence and my wooden guards today. It will more than make do on the real thing. I don't know how long it's going to be until they strike again - hours, maybe days, but not long enough to give you another lesson. Just remember: visualize the hexes you need to escape! Your success will depend on it. Midnight tonight. Wait for my signal."

Harry wasn't sure how to respond. He felt all manner of emotions colliding through his body like fronts in a thunderstorm: fear, anger, loss, but mostly uncertainty. He still didn't feel as though he had any idea how he could control what was happening to them. He looked across at Hermione and saw confusion on her face as well. But she was the first to open her mouth and say:

"All right, Sirius. We'll be there."

And then all Harry could do was nod.

Neville never slept very well in the daytime. The windows and the ceiling of the magically enlarged space in which they slept were charmed to show the opposite of the sun's journey through the daytime sky outside. When his eyes snapped open to see the full moon above them, he still knew somewhere in his biological clock that it was really noon.

Which was just as well, he decided. Rest he needed but sound sleep was deadly. He wouldn't forget that goblin attack in a hurry. Waking with the sound of an explosion that had seemed to begin in the middle of his head. Seeing the flames dance around him. Coughing, unable to breathe, struggling to reach Luna's tent, grabbing her into his own cloak to smother the flames that had already begun to catch on the curls of her long blonde hair. Their scars - all of their scars had been magically healed just after the attack had finished that night. But Neville knew that the scars in his mind would take much longer to heal. Until they did, he would spend every moment, waking or sleeping, on edge.

There had been no mistaking the sharp hooting sound that had awoken him this time. The batting of wings back and forth had been even louder. This time the owl was right outside their tent and Neville was going to catch it. Without bothering to stop and wake up his roommate this time, Neville sprinted from his bed and out through the flap of their tent.

It was cloudy and raining when Neville stepped outside but the daytime was still bright compared to the darkness inside. He flinched for a moment but then pressed on. The first thing he saw was a line of elm trees whose branches just touched the top of their tent. Neville was sure the sound had come from there. He looked up into the trees panting, fearing for a moment that he'd frightened his quarry, just as Hall had the previous week when the mysterious owl had first appeared in their camp. But then there came another sharp flapping of wings. Neville looked up in the tree nearest him to see something large and white furiously fly away. His eyes darted around, trying to track their spy, but then he became aware of another sound.

It was just inside the forest. A figure. A human figure with a dark cloak pulled up over its head and a letter clutched in its right hand.

Neville looked at the figure in shock for a moment, then pulled out his wand.

"Stop!" he cried. "_Stop!"_

The figure started to run.

"_Stupefy!" _Neville cried.

A red beam shot out of his wand. The figure ducked as it flew past his head and hit a tree, causing a nest full of bluebirds to scatter.

"I said stop!" cried Neville, and then he started running. He sprinted at first but the figure was lither and faster than he was. The forest soon grew dark, the tall trees nearly blotting out the daylight completely. Neville stumbled twice and his pursuer gained ground. Neville threw two more stunning spells which both missed their mark wildly. He pushed himself forward to recover the ground. A stitch began to form in his side but he continued to run through the pain. Soon other footsteps joined the chase behind him, raising Neville's spirits. He could hear a pair of large, rangy feet coming fast up behind him and could tell they belonged to Ron. The sound of another hex from Nevins' distinctive voice resounded through the forest and whizzed over Neville's head. Their quarry ducked to avoid the hex but went flying over a stump in the ground and fell down hard. Still at the head of the pack, Neville forced to himself to run faster. The figure tried to get up but Neville closed in behind him.

"Don't move!" he cried out, panting. "I'm right on top of you!"

The figure seemed to consider moving forward, but his ankle was obviously twisted. He limped weakly forward but then collapsed again to his knees and raised his hands in surrender.

"I've caught you, Hall," said Neville. "We've all caught you. Hand the letter over."

But the next thing Neville heard was the sound of a snort from the pair of rangy footsteps behind him.

"I'm standing right behind your fat arse, Longbottom."

The figure slowly turned around and lifted up his hood. It was not Hall at all.

It was Ron.

It was the longest hour of Hermione's life - that she could remember. She wasn't at all sure whether she wanted it to end soon or keep going forever.

The buzzer had sounded and the lights had gone out promptly at 11 p.m. Sirius had told them to wait for the sign at midnight.

Hermione was sitting up in her bed, eyes wide open. She only hoped Lavender wasn't doing the same. Hermione couldn't really tell how much time had passed: they didn't have a clock in their room and she couldn't see the time on her wristwatch in the dark. It seemed like an eternity but she knew that was probably subjective. What if her roommate witnessed her escape? And what was Sirius planning to do at midnight anyway? Hermione tensed herself as she expected him to materialize suddenly into their room again, knock Lavender unconscious, and whisk her away. She had spent enough time around Sirius to know that his idea of a signal was unlikely to be anything subtle.

Hermione tried to relax herself but her thoughts and her stomach were both still tied up in knots. She was still mulling over the potential obstacles to their escape when she heard a sharp click and sat up sharply in her bed. She looked over to see if the sound had awoken Lavender but her roommate made no sound. Already fully clothed when she took away her blanket, Hermione slipped noiselessly into her trainers, moved toward the door, and gently pushed on it.

It was ajar.

Hermione's heart began to beat much faster. She took her wand out of her pocket and held it in front of her, then pushed the door open and walked out into the hallway. She tried to keep her footsteps light but she knew that her movements would not go completely unnoticed. She had prepared for this moment in her mock battles with Harry and Sirius for weeks. Now she would find out whether or not she was really ready.

Hermione turned the corner and found herself face to face with Sister Jones who, less than an hour before, had come into their room and satisfied herself that Hermione and Lavender were both tucked away in a bedroom/cell that was locked from the outside.

Sister Jones let out a quick gasp. "M - Miss Granger, b - but how did you - how could you - "

Hermione raised her wand. "_Stupefy!_" she said firmly.

The hex hit Sister Jones just below her shoulder. She flew back against the corridor wall, a horrified look of surprise on her face, and then fell to the ground unconscious.

The escape had begun.

Ron sat up slowly. He could not quite bring himself to his feet. He didn't want to look at any of them - especially not Nevins.

No one spoke for an agonizing moment. Then there came the sharp sound of snapping twigs as McGonagall caught up to the rest of the group, panting and gasping for breath.

"Did you find - " She stopped as she looked at Ron, the letter still in his hand. "M - M - Mr. _Weasley_?" she said incredulously.

"Oh, this is rich, isn't it?" declared Hall. "Let's cast the other stone, why don't we?"

"It's not really him!" protested Neville, his eyes wide and his wand still aimed at Ron. "It's a disguise. Polyjuice Potion o - or something."

"Bowtruckles," said Luna. "I suspected it the moment Shakespeare went to chase them out of the tree the day we left Hogwarts. He always has an eye for anything out of place. Do you know a whole gang of them together can actually camouflage themselves into human form? I suspect Voldemort's modified their memories, too. Father thinks - "

"Put the wand down, Neville," said Ron in a tired voice. "It's me."

Neville gripped his wand more tightly and continued to aim it at Ron.

"Do as he says, Neville," said Nevins.

Not taking his eyes away from Ron, Neville slowly lowered his wand.

There was another long moment of silence. Ron didn't need to be told that everyone was waiting for him to talk but he didn't have the slightest idea how to begin. Instead, he held up the letter in his hand to McGonagall.

"Go on, read it," he said.

"What - out loud?" asked McGonagall.

"Everyone deserves to know the truth."

Hall made a scoffing noise, but said nothing more as Harmon put a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Very well," said McGonagall. She adjusted her half-moon glasses and began to read the note. "_Dear Keeper, I started passing the lakes yesterday. They're very beautiful this time of year. I'm up on a high place now but I can't see you yet. I think you might be nearby though since our friend is ever so quick. Send this back right away and tell me all about the lovely place you're staying. Yours, Seeker._"

McGonagall paused and put the letter down.

"I'm afraid I'm none the wiser."

"If I'm not mistaken, it sounds like someone giving away our position in code," said Hall.

"Yes," admitted Ron. "But not to the Death Eaters. The letter is from my sister."

"Your sister?" said McGonagall incredulously. "B - but that's not - she's in the house-elf village with Professor Dumbledore. I'm sure he would never let - "

But Ron was shaking his head. "No, she's not. She left."

"She - " started McGonagall. "And what damn fool reason did she have to do that?"

"I don't know!" said Ron defensively. "She writes as little as possible. I'm not saying it wasn't a completely daft thing for her to have done but what was _I_ supposed to do?"

"Perhaps you should explain what happened from the beginning," Nevins suggested.

"I never sent letters to Death Eaters, I swear!" said Ron, getting to his feet and resting gingerly on his good ankle. "Or to anyone - at first. And when I accused Hall of sending our position to the goblins, I meant it," he said, casting a challenging glance at the Slytherin. "That day when we first heard the owl, I was as anxious as anyone to find it. And I didn't know anything about it - until I returned to my tent. While we were all looking through the trees, it must have flown back around us and found its way in through the open flap. When I got back in the bed, I found the first letter from Ginny under my pillow. She said that she didn't want to contact us. She knew it was dangerous but she had no other choice. She said she couldn't go back to the village but she wasn't safe on her own. She wanted to rendezvous with us. We've owled back and forth a few times since then, explaining where we were and calculating how near we were to each other from the time it took the messages to reach us. This one came back very fast and the landscape she's describing as the same as what we're going through. I doubt she can be more than a few valleys away from us."

"And did it ever occur to you," said McGonagall hotly, "that it might not really be Ginny sending these messages?"

"They came from Hedwig - Harry's bird. She's been with Ginny off and on ever since he went away. I know it must be her."

"All the same, Mr. Weasley. Did you not ever consider that someone else might intercept your owls and use the messages to discover our location?"

"Of course, I considered it! That's why we wrote in code. And Hedwig's very good at looking after herself. She's done it many times before. She got past all of us that day, didn't she? Look, I know it wasn't foolproof, but what was I supposed to do? She's my sister! I can't just abandon her!"

McGonagall sighed heavily.

"Why didn't you tell us, Ron?" asked Nevins.

Ron lowered his head. "I - I didn't think you'd let me send them. No owl communications, no exceptions, right? One person would have to be sacrificed for the greater good and all that, especially with how important our mission is. B - but I - I couldn't - I couldn't just leave my sister alone and helpless. That's the truth. The whole truth. I swear it."

There was another pause. Ron scanned the still stunned expressions on the faces of Neville, Luna, Parvati, and Ernie. He wondered how he would ever speak to his old classmates again. Then Nevins walked over, put his hand to his shoulder, and his finger underneath Ron's chin.

"Look at me, Ron," he said. "Look me in the eye."

Ron did as he was told.

"Tell me you were not sending messages to the Death Eaters?"

Ron's face creased up. "I wasn't! I swear it!"

Nevins continued to look at him searchingly. Ron prayed he possessed some training in Legilimency for Ron knew he was telling the truth. Another moment passed, then Nevins nodded slowly and walked back to the others.

"I believe him," he said, almost as an afterthought.

"What a bloody flipping farce!" declared Hall.

"We trusted _you_, Mr. Hall when we found you writing that note," said Harmon. "Now it's your turn."

"That's bloody not the same thing!" cried Hall. "He admitted to sending the owls!"

"_Mr. Hall!" _cried McGonagall, scarlet in the face. "_That will be all! _However," she said, turning to Ron, with no less ferocity. "It is very difficult for me to say how disappointed I am in you, Mr. Weasley. You have deliberately deceived your closest friends and put everyone in this group in danger. What is worse, you have betrayed my trust in you. We will not, as you suppose, abandon your sister, but we _will_ proceed from this point forward with far greater caution than your limited magical abilities and questionable judgment have led you to act to this point. You will add to your letter and explain that you've been delayed. Professor Nevins will tend to your ankle and put a Disillusionment Charm on your owl and, together, we will track the message. Is that clear?"

Ron still didn't want to look up, but he nodded all the same.

Ginny walked anxiously through the forest, every now and then catching glimpses of bright sunlight from a meadow opposite. She very much wanted to walk there instead. Walking out in the open felt so much freer - and safer - than in the dark, claustrophobic forest day after day. But Ginny also knew that it really wasn't safer. Out in the open she could be seen more easily.

Ginny paused as she heard another twig snap. She looked around cautiously but she could see nothing. An animal, she told herself. Another animal. She tightened her grip on her wand which she held almost constantly out in front of her, feeling the familiar sheen of her own sweat against the handle. Not now, she told herself. Please don't panic now. You've made it this far. You're this close. Soon you'll be with Ron and the others and then all this madness will be over.

Another twig snapped, much nearer and much larger. Ginny turned around.

With Nevins' help, they eradicated their camp and made it to the top of a small hill not far away. Nevins and Harmon cautiously incinerated a few trees at the top so that they could see down into the clearing below, quickly extinguishing the embers as soon as they had finished so as to attract as little attention to their position as possible.

If it were not for the very dark spot that had grown like a tumor on Ron's soul, he might have appreciated the view before them. He could see that the forests only stretched so far before changing to rolling meadows and lakes. Several Muggle farms now dotted the landscape in the distance. They obviously weren't far from Voldemort's hideout now. It seemed difficult to imagine that such an idyllic place concealed something so evil.

Ron held Hedwig in his hands and tied the letter to her leg. She let out an indignant hoot as Nevins touched his wand to her head and murmured the Disillusionment Charm. Ron watched as she seemed to disappear in his hands but he could still feel her weight. He walked to the edge of the clearing, held out his hand, and felt and heard Hedwig fly away into the clearing below.

"How will we see her?" Ernie asked.

Nevins responded by drawing a small rectangular shape with his wand in the air. A purplish screen formed in front of them and through it, they could make out Hedwig flying into the valley below. For the first time since he'd been discovered with the letter, Ron felt a surge of relief and hope: he watched as Hedwig circled low over a small patch of forest on the edge of a meadow and then swooped straight down into the trees.

"She's there!" he exclaimed. "She's not far away at all!"

Nevins followed Hedwig's flight closely with his wand and muttered another charm. He then took his hand away again and Ron could see a reddish, glowing light on the end.

"This will fix us to the spot," he said. "Come on, we'd better get to her as quickly as we can."

A wave of relief rushed over Harry as Hermione appeared around the corner and trotted quietly but quickly toward him.

"What took you so long?" he whispered.

"I ran into quite a few nuns," she explained.

"Are you all right?"

Hermione held up her wand. "All taken care of," she declared, matter-of-factly. "Where's Sirius?"

"Right here."

Sirius suddenly appeared right in front of them. Harry and Hermione both jumped but managed to avoid crying out.

"Come on," he said quickly.

No one spoke as Sirius led them down the same corridor where, in the guise of Sister Barnes, he had partially returned their memories to them several weeks before. This time, they did not stop at the cleaning closet. They continued to the end of the corridor and the door that led out to the perimeter wall outside.

Sirius pointed his wand at the lock on the door. "_Alohomora,_" he said.

The door quickly opened and Harry, Hermione, and Sirius stepped outside without another sound.

They quickly found themselves face to face with two guards. Both had raised their guns and one had a whistle, but Sirius stunned them with frightening speed.

"Let's move quickly," he said, guiding Harry and Hermione to their right. "They're likely to be missed very soon."

They flattened themselves to the side of the prison wall, staying clear of the searchlights working their way around the perimeter. It wasn't long before they reached the part of the fence that Sirius planned to cut through. He'd explained to them that it was mostly hidden from the searchlights and that there was a path on the other side that would lead them through the forest and up the hill that led away from the prison.

"Keep still," whispered Sirius. He placed his wand to the side of the fence. A narrow, cutting beam emitted silently from the end and began to seer through the steel latticework. Harry stared nervously at him and then at the swinging searchlights which were now moving inexorably around to shine on the door through which they had just come.

"Sirius," whispered Harry anxiously, touching his godfather's shoulder. "I think they're about to find those guards you just - "

It all happened very suddenly. Harry heard Hermione gasp and swung around. He didn't know where she had come from or how she had found them, but standing right on the other side of the three of them was Sister Owens. If the expression on her face was anything to judge by, she seemed as surprised to see them as they were to see her. Harry felt a pang of regret that the one nun who had been decent to them all the time they'd been in this school was the one who'd been wandering the grounds on watch that night. He knew that if it had been up to Sirius, he wouldn't have hesitated one second longer, but Sirius was tied up cutting the fence. Harry still knew what he had to do but he hesitated for one split-second.

And that one split-second proved much too slow.

"M - Miss _Granger_?" Sister Owens stuttered incredulously. "M - Mr. Potter a - and who - who is - "

The nun's eyes grew even larger. She moved a whistle to her mouth.

"No, Sister!" cried Hermione.

"_Stupefy!" _shouted Harry.

Sister Owens fell to the ground in a heap but before the hex had reached her, the whistle in her mouth had blown. Harry and Hermione shielded their eyes as the searchlights swung quickly in their direction. Then the alarms sounded.

No one spoke as they journeyed on. Ron walked in front, his wand raised in caution. Nevins was close behind him, occasionally navigating him this way and that, but saying nothing more, for which Ron was grateful. The others hung a little further back. Ron doubted he and Nevins would ever share a campfire the same way again but he needed to put that behind him now. He could allow himself the luxury of guilt when Ginny was back with them safely.

Their journey had seemed much shorter from the top of the hill than it did when they'd actually had to walk the distance. They seemed to remain in the forest for ages, but finally it cleared into a meadow. They walked along the edge of a meadow for a while, then Nevins directed Ron back into the forest. Ron said nothing but his heart began to quicken: this was the meadow they had seen from the hill. He knew that the forest where Hedwig had delivered her message was very close to the edge of that meadow. It wouldn't be much further now provided that Ginny hadn't moved herself and they'd told her in the message not to.

It wasn't long before they reached a small ridge within the forest that led down about fifty meters into a very small clearing where, from the looks of things, a large tree had fallen down in the forest. Ron didn't need Nevins to navigate him anymore for standing against the tree at the far edge of the clearing was Ginny. Unable to restrain himself any longer, Ron ran quickly through the twigs and leaves to his sister, abandoning all caution and stealth.

"Ron, not so fast!" cautioned Nevins. "Be careful!"

But Ron did not heed his warning. All he could feel was relief now, relief he could taste and drink down like large gulps of water to a very parched mouth. He leapt over the fallen tree and ran into the clearing.

"Ginny!" he cried.

But then Ron stopped. He now stood only ten meters away from his sister but she still made no move toward him. She continued to stand against the tree oddly expressionless. Ron suddenly felt his relief evaporate like a mirage. Something wasn't right. A creepy, icy feeling began to descend all over his body. It was exactly the way he had felt that night he had stood in front of the portrait hole outside Gryffindor Tower just before -

Ron pointed his wand at Ginny. "_Finite Incantatem!" _he cried.

Ginny snapped to life instantly. "Ron, get out of here!" she cried. "It's a trap! It's a - "

But before Ginny could finish her sentence, the clearing came alive with noise. Ron realized only too late how perfect a place it was for an ambush. Figures swung down from the trees, emerged from bushes, and perched on top of the ridges around them. Not goblins this time, but fully grown, masked Death Eaters. A dozen or more.

Ginny tried to run toward Ron but two Death Eaters dropped down from the tree in front of which she was standing. They grabbed her arms and one pointed a wand at her neck. Ginny yelped in pain and then her head slumped unconscious to the side. Ron aimed his wand at them but before he could let off a shot, the other Death Eater touched something to Ginny's shoulder and all three of them disappeared.

Ron watched the space where his sister had stood in disbelief, but then quickly gathered his senses. He turned around and ran back to warn the others. He nearly cannoned into Nevins who was already exchanging hexes with the Death Eaters and shouted at him to get back. The old Auror seemed to pay no attention, however, and continued to move his wand back and forth, desperately trying to engage in multiple duels at once. All Ron could do was take out his own wand and try his best to fend off their attackers.

Ron hoped that the others had managed to escape but he quickly saw that this was not to be. A fresh batch of Death Eaters appeared at the top of the ridge and Ron could see they had been caught and cornered halfway back up. Several of the students let off fire at the Death Eaters and one or two fell, but the others kept attacking. Ron watched in apprehension as three of the Death Eaters, at corners surrounding the group, did not engage in the fire but raised their wands high in the air. A thin beam of orange light then connected two of the wands, and finally the third, until a triangle had formed around their friends. Ron and Nevins both tried to fire at the Death Eaters holding up the sides of the triangle but their other attackers stopped them from getting close enough for a decent shot. Ron watched in horror as McGonagall, Harmon, Ernie, Parvati, Luna, Neville, and Hall placed their hands to their heads and fell to the earth, screaming in pain. An instant later the triangle vanished. With it went everyone inside.

Ron felt shocked and numb but he forced himself to continue to engage his attackers. There were fewer of them now but still too many - at least ten as far as Ron could see. He knew he had managed a miracle that night in Gryffindor Tower, not to mention the duel with the goblins. Could they yet make it out again?

Ron had no sooner finished his anxious wish when Nevins let out a cry of pain. He swung quickly around to see that he had fallen to the ground and was clutching his side, his wand nowhere in sight. Ron desperately fought the remaining Death Eaters single-handedly but his efforts did not last long. In a panicked fear, he hexed two of them to the ground but then he heard a voice right next to him cry out:

"_Expelliarmus!" _

Ron fell to the ground from the force of the hex and felt his wand fly somewhere far away. He forced himself to his feet, ready to run or fight any way he could, but then a voice rang out:

"Stop! Put your wands down!"

The Death Eaters obeyed. Ron crouched down next to his old teacher.

"I'm all right," Nevins insisted.

They both looked up as one of the Death Eaters, the one whose voice they had just heard, walked slowly into the clearing. He stared at Ron for a moment, then reached back and removed his mask.

Ron felt like retching at the sight before him. His first reaction was that Voldemort himself had returned in his earlier grotesque form. The Death Eater who now stood in front of him was hairless, with blistered, scarred skin, an abnormally abbreviated nose, and a horrible slit for a mouth.

"Hello, Weasel Face," he said.

"Nott?" Ron croaked in disbelief.

"Yes, Weasel Face. I survived your attempt to torch down Gryffindor Tower but not without a price. I'm really quite angry with you, you know, Weasel Face, an anger I don't expect will ever go away. It was my idea to have the goblins attack you with the fireballs. Such a trouble it was, too. You've no idea how many goblins we had to prepare: they're very good at intelligence but we had to cover a very wide area. You see, we really had no idea where you were. Still, that's the beauty of mass Memory Charms: ignorance can be very persuasive. It wasn't long before we'd built our army. I thought that the fireballs were a fitting revenge but then you managed to get yourself out of it and disappear again. You can imagine my joy when your stupid sister tried to contact you and the goblins intercepted the message. They found you and then they easily found her. They were very anxious to exact their phantom revenge on you both but I persuaded them to wait until you had found each other and then we could tie things up quickly. And so we have. Your sister is now safely on her way to the Dark Lord. It only remains for me to deal with you."

"What have you done with the others?" demanded Nevins.

"Oh, they're not dead," replied Nott, "but perhaps they'd be better off if they were. The triangle has taken them to Azkaban which is, thanks again to the Memory Charms, very much under our control. I also prepared a new Memory Charm just for them: they will remember only that they are savage criminals who betrayed and murdered their friends. I expect their despair and self-hate will make up for the absence of the Dementors. A pity you couldn't join them, Professor, but you're easy enough to dispose of. You'll forgive me if I see to Weasel Face here first though. I've waited for this for a little too long. _AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

A green light shot out from Nott's wand toward Ron but it never reached its intended target. A fraction of a second before it could strike, Nevins leapt into its path. Ron watched in amazed horror as a bright orange blocking field emerged from Nevins' hand and enveloped him. It was just like the one Nevins had used to protect himself and McGonagall against the goblins' attack. But unlike the fireballs that had bounced off the shield to strike the goblins, Nott's killing curse seemed to remain absorbed inside it. A beam of green light still linked the blocking field to Nott's wand.

"What's happening?" cried Ron anxiously. "Why won't the curse rebound?"

"Impressive, isn't it?" Nevins flashed Ron a brave smile. "And wandless, too. I've been practicing this ever since the First War. Unfortunately, it never really held very long in the tests."

Ron looked at the nexus of the curse and the field. To his horror, he found that it was moving slowly closer to Nevins' chest.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _cried Nott again angrily.

A fresh wave of green light flew down the beam that connected Nott's wand to the blocking field. The field sizzled angrily and the green light from Nott's wand began to move faster.

"Tell me what to do!" cried Ron. "There must be something - "

"There isn't any more time, Ron," said Nevins, still smiling. "I want to thank you, Ron. I'm an old wizard. If not for you I would have died in my marshy cottage believing I was a coward. You proved to me that I wasn't. If you ever somehow get out of this, tell Harry - "

A loud explosion erupted from the center of the field, throwing Ron back hard against the grass. When he moved up again, he found Nevins lying on the ground, a smile still on his face, but no more life in his eyes.

Nott lowered his wand. His grotesque face twisted into a parody of a smile.

"How sad. And such a waste, too. You're going to die anyway, Weasel Face."

Ron wanted to go down fighting. He wanted to do whatever still remained in his power to stop Nott. But he was too numb to move: in one short battle, their long journey had finished, his sister had been captured, and his mentor had been killed. And it was all his fault.

Ron felt oddly detached as he looked up at Nott. He watched, strangely emotionless as the Death Eater summoned the fury in his face he needed to cast another killing blow.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _

There was a loud pop that started in the middle of Nott's wand and seemed to echo like a cannon through the forest. An instant later, Ron felt like his brain had exploded from the inside. Then everything went black.


	20. Crisis Of Faith

**Chapter 20**

**Crisis of Faith**

Pain and light blurred in Ron's mind. He saw something white and gold standing over him. A soft, fatherly voice said:

"Oh, dear. Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear."

"Excuse me," said Ron croakily, struggling to find his voice. "Is this - are we - is this what feels like beyond the veil? Cause if it is, I want to go back."

"I'm afraid I wouldn't know," said the fatherly voice. "But I sincerely hope not."

The searing pain in Ron's head began to fade to a throbbing ache. The world that was swimming around him gradually resolved into a familiar white bears and spectacles.

"P - P - Professor Dumbledore," Ron said awkwardly, "b - but how - how did you - "

"Steady on," said Dumbledore again. "A Killing Curse can do horrible things to one's head, even if it is deflected."

"D - Deflected?" Ron repeated. "I don't understand. One minute I was - I - he shot me - Nott - it hit me head on; how could we - where are the other Death Eaters - what - "

"Steady on, Ron, please!" said Dumbledore insistently as Ron winced in pain again. "I will explain everything but not now. You need to rest and we need to be away from here as soon as you've recovered."

"I'm recovered now!" Ron sat upright and clenched his teeth as pain flooded his head and the forest started to spin around again. "I'm fine!" he insisted. "What's going on? What happened?"

Dumbledore sighed wearily.

"I can only tell you know what I know myself. Perhaps you'll be able to fill in a great many unanswered details when you are well enough. Three weeks ago, for reasons I do not know and can only fear, your sister wandered out of the village where we were protecting her and disappeared."

"I - I know," said Ron. "She contacted me by owl." He winced again. "She was trying - she was trying to reach us."

"Yes, I'm afraid that was her second very serious error. It's the easiest thing to intercept an owl, especially when you have the intelligence abilities of goblins and myocorps that Lord Voldemort has amassed in these forests. Fortunately for Ginny, however - and you - we were able to track your letters as well. But apparently not before they did."

"Who's we?" said Ron suddenly.

"Hello, Ron," said another voice.

Ron turned around, still fighting to steady his head, and saw Remus Lupin lying on the ground, a hastily wrapped bandage covering his right knee.

"I fear I may chase Madam Pomfrey out of her job before too long," remarked Dumbledore, "though I confess I lack her charm and personality."

"What happened to you?" asked Ron.

"Nothing much," said Lupin matter-of-factly. "But I'm afraid the days are gone when I can take on four Death Eaters at once."

"I remember he could manage seven in his younger days," said Dumbledore reflectively. "But perhaps I should go on: we received your owls but we couldn't be sure of your exact position, just as you weren't very certain of each other's, as your subsequent letters revealed. We made it to this forest and Professor Lupin's owl tracking charm told us that Hedwig was flying not far away. I managed to catch a glimpse of her but I'm afraid my anti-Disillusionment sight isn't what it used to be. We couldn't be sure enough of her location for a precise Disapparation; we came as close as we could but I'm afraid that, in these woods, one can be very near or very far from one's destination and still be none the wiser. Finally, we heard the hexes and shouting and followed the noises here. When we arrived, the Death Eaters had you trapped and cornered. I didn't have a clear shot at Nott but I managed to strike and weaken his curse. Another half a second and you really would have discovered what life is like beyond the gateway."

"And then it was left for us to mop up the six or seven Death Eaters you'd left for us," said Lupin. "Which we almost did unscathed."

Ron lay back down on the ground again, his head reeling from all he'd just been told. He thought back to those desperate final moments: Looking down at Nevins, Nott raising his wand, the sound of a horrible pop and then an echo... But not an echo, Ron realized. The sound of another shot. Dumbledore's shot.

"But I don't understand," Ron said. "Nott's curse - it hit me."

"What hit you was a combination of his shot and my deflection," explained Dumbledore. "And fortunately I seem to have knocked it enough that it didn't kill you. Though all the same, it was a very nasty hex."

His mind still clouded, Ron tried to think his way through Dumbledore's explanations. A flicker of hope danced on the horizon of his hazy thoughts. Did that mean - Could that mean -

"Professor Nevins!" Ron sat back up and looked at Dumbledore hopefully. "Does that mean - he wasn't really - you saved him too, right?"

Dumbledore didn't answer. The twinkle went out of his eyes like the fading of a candle. It was Lupin who finally spoke:

"Andrew Nevins is dead, Ron. He was dead when we arrived."

Ron didn't move. He felt the ends of his fingers go numb. The world began to move around again. Lupin's dulcet words seem to sting much harder than Nott's abortive curse had. Ron felt his eyes start to blur, whether from pain or tears he wasn't sure. He managed to look up and see Dumbledore and Lupin gazing at a spot in the ground in an alcove just under a cluster of trees. Without thinking of his pain, Ron immediately got to his feet and ran over.

It was a mound of earth, freshly dug and slightly raised. A single long wizard's hat had been conjured and placed at its head, the mark of respect for a fallen Auror.

Ron couldn't force himself to stand anymore. He fell hard to his knees in front of the mound. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Lupin standing over him, Dumbledore at his side. Ron didn't want to cry but the tears had a way of running down his cheeks on their own.

"Why d-did you leave h-h-him here?" he sobbed. "Why did you leave him in this h-h-h-horrible place?"

"Because it's what he would have wanted, Ron," said Lupin.

"He was an excellent Auror in the field," added Dumbledore. "But he was far better as a strategic mastermind. He couldn't take it when others died from his planning. Finally, he retired altogether but the losses still haunted him. He began to think he wasn't as good as the Aurors who were out there, day after day, risking their lives in the war. He thought he was a coward but he wasn't. He must have finally died knowing that; it's what he would have wanted."

"No, he didn't want it!" cried Ron angrily. "He didn't want to die!" He pulled himself painfully to his feet again.

"Steady, Ron," said Lupin. He strengthened his grip on Ron's shoulder but Ron fought him off and stood facing Lupin and Dumbledore."I dare say he didn't," said Dumbledore calmly, "but at least he - " 

"HE DIED BECAUSE _I_ BETRAYED HIM!"

There was a long silence after that. Ron's bellowing words echoed through the forest as though the very trees were passing on the damning truth to each other.

"I don't understand," said Lupin finally.

Ron looked at them both. They only knew half the truth. And with the others now banished to Azkaban, their memories altered, the two wizards might never find out. But Ron knew he could never keep all his guilt inside. Quickly, between hoarse sobs, he told them everything that had happened since Ginny had first started sending him the owls.

"He went out of his way to befriend me, to help me, and he went to his grave knowing I'd killed him."

"I very much doubt he thought that, Ron," said Lupin.

Ron didn't answer. He sat down on part of the fallen log from the old, dead tree and buried his face in his arms.

"And not just him," he finished. "Professor McGonagall was right. I betrayed them all. I'm sitting here with nothing but a headache while they've paid the price for my mistakes! And for what? My sister's been captured. She's probably dead now. And the mission has failed."

"I know how you feel, believe me," said Dumbledore gravely. "However, I for one am not yet prepared to concede the end of the world to Lord Voldemort. The three of us have survived. We have to go on. We're not far from Voldemort's hideout and now we have someone who will take us inside."

"We - " Ron looked up at Dumbledore quizzically. "Wh - what do you mean?"

Ron followed Dumbledore and Lupin's gaze to a tree on the other side of the clearing. Once again, Ron stumbled over, wincing but ignoring his aching head. On the other side of the tree, bound and unconscious, was Nott.

"GIVE ME A WAND!" Ron cried out suddenly.

"Ron - " Lupin began.

"I SAID 'GIVE ME A WAND!' GIVE IT TO ME NOW! I'LL KILL HIM! I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!"

"Ron," said Dumbledore patiently. "We need him to lead us into Voldemort's hideout. It's the only we have any chance to stop this."

"You can use one of the others. You didn't kill off all of the rest of them, did you? I have a score to settle. I know how to do a Killing Curse; I can summon the hate. He deserves to die; _he deserves to suffer! NOW GIVE ME A WAND!_"

"NO!" bellowed Dumbledore.

A frightened cacophony of blackbirds erupted out of a nearby tree into the sky. The forest around them seemed to almost bend and sway. Ron stumbled and barely managed to hold onto the trunk of the tree where Nott was tied up to keep himself from collapsing.

"YOU MADE A CHOICE, AND THE CHOICE WAS WRONG. YOU DON'T WANT TO LIVE WITH THE GUILT, YOU DON'T WANT TO LIVE WITH THE HATE, _BUT YOU HAVE TO; IF YOU DON'T, BILLIONS MORE ARE GOING TO DIE BECAUSE OF YOU!"_

Ron pressed himself back against the tree as though pushed by the force of Dumbledore's fury. He had only twice seen the headmaster like this before: once when Dementors had invaded the Quidditch pitch while Harry was playing his third year and once when Mundungus Fletcher had left when he was supposed to be watching Harry just before the beginning of his fifth. On neither occasion had the anger been directed at him and Ron didn't think he'd like it to again.

"You want to be an Auror, Ron?" Dumbledore continued, more calmly. "This is what being an Auror is like. This is what haunted Professor Nevins almost to his grave. This is what war is. That is why we never choose it. But now it has chosen us. If you kill him, we'll never make it to that lake. We've imprisoned the others, too, and we're keeping them hidden under a Trance Charm should they be needed, but he is their leader; he knows much more than they do. Without him, we won't have a chance but at least now we have just that: a chance. A chance to save your sister; a chance to save everything."

Ron looked back at Dumbledore for a long moment.

"Professor Lupin," he said finally.

"Yes, Ron."

"Is your leg still hurting?"

"I daresay I'll manage, but I doubt that you're in a fit state yet, Ron. We should at least stay here the night."

Ron looked back at Dumbledore. "Can I have my wand, please?"

Dumbledore sighed.

"I'm not going to kill him, I promise."

Dumbledore nodded. Lupin walked over and reached into his cloak.

"We found this next to the tree where you were struck. We thought it was probably yours."

Ron took the wand from Lupin and felt it glide into his hand. He checked the tip to see that it still contained the burn mark from the night of the goblin attack. He nodded slowly, then stepped toward Nott and pointed his wand at him.

"_Ennervate,"_he said.

Nott let out a groan and moved his head back and forth. His sunken eyes looked up groggily at Ron and then snapped open wide.

"No!" he cried.

"Yes!" said Ron. "Get up!"

"I seem to be tied to the tree, Weasel Face."

"Then we'll_untie_ you! But if you try to run, I will personally make sure that your last moments are incredibly painful. We have something we need you to do."

"Sirius!" cried Harry.

The sound of many pairs of heavy, boot-clad footsteps came swarming down the small pavement between the school wall and the prison fence where Sirius, Harry, and Hermione were trying to escape.

"Nearly there," said Sirius, who was continuing to cut an arc in the fence with his wand.

"Stop!" yelled a voice. "Stop right there and put your hands up!"

"Oh, blast," said Sirius. He took his wand away from the fence. "_Protego!"_ he cried.

A bright orange field erupted from the wand and surrounded the three of them.

"You'll have to keep cutting it yourself!" cried Sirius, still holding his wand aloft. "I can't do both spells at once!"

Hermione pointed her wand at the fence. "_Dissect - _"

She was stopped in mid hex as the loud sound of gunfire erupted all around them. Hermione screamed and fell to the ground, pulling Harry roughly down beside her. The bullets ricocheted off the shield charm.

Harry took out his wand and aimed it at the guards.

"No, Harry!" cried Sirius. "You won't get through the shield. Concentrate on that wall!"

"I don't think those are rubber bullets they're firing!" said Hermione frantically.

"The shielding charm will hold you!" said Sirius. "Now fire on that - "

But those were Sirius's last words. A white light, as bright as the sun, exploded from his stomach and enveloped the courtyard. The blocking shield immediately disappeared and Harry and Hermione found themselves flung into the air toward the guards who, fortunately for them, were also thrown backward. Hermione watched as one or two got to their feet again, however, and raised their weapons.

"_Protego!"_she cried.

An orange shielding charm went up again around her and Harry. Bullets resounded through the air and sizzled as they popped off the charm. It took every ounce of Hermione's concentration to keep the shield charm holding and she was obviously not as good at it as Sirius. With every bullet that hit the outside of the shield, it got a little smaller until soon it barely covered both of them.

"Harry!" she cried out. "We have to move back over to that fence! I can't hold this up much longer!"

But Harry was in another world.

"SIRIUS!" he cried out. "SIRIUS!"

Hermione shot a glance back to see that, if anything, the light surrounding Sirius had grown even larger. In the midst of its painful brightness, she could just make out Sirius's outline, his black mangy hair framing his struggle to remain where he was. Finally, he seemed to grow smaller and lighter like he was being sucked away from them to another point. At the very last moment, Hermione was certain she saw him grin one last time and throw out his arms, then the white light exploded with a final burst of energy. Both she and Harry were leveled to the ground but Hermione gritted her teeth and forced herself to hold onto her wand and maintain the shield charm. She could just about make out the cries of the guards as the wave of energy picked them up like matchsticks and scattered them against the wall of the school. Then just as suddenly as it had begun, the light faded, but with it went Sirius Black.

"Sirius!" Harry cried again, getting to his feet. "Where is he - he can't be - SIRIUS!"

Hermione lay on the ground, completely exhausted, her shield charm now extinguished. She looked over and saw that all of the guards were motionless but then she heard fresh cries, shouts, and the sound of more running. Summoning all her remaining willpower, she forced herself to her feet.

"SIRIUS!" Harry cried out again.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed frantically. "Harry, he's gone! Harry, we've got to get out of here!"

Harry turned around to look at her, an expression of almost childlike disbelief on his face.

"No, no, h - he's not. H - he can't be. H - he's just disappeared. He'll be - "

The footsteps grew closer. Hermione had every bit of sympathy for Harry but she knew that their time had run out. She yanked Harry's elbow hard and pulled him toward the fence.

"_Dissectum!"_she shrieked.

The remaining corner of fence blew away, leaving an opening just large enough for the two of them to fit through. Hermione shoved Harry forward and then followed after just as the footsteps rounded the side of the school toward them.

They found themselves in the gap between an inner and outer fence. Hermione pointed her wand at the outer fence.

"_Dissectum! Dissectum! Dissectum!_" she shrieked hysterically.

Shots rang out toward them again. Fortunately, Harry seemed to choose this moment to recover his senses.

"_Stupefy!"_ he cried, pointing his wand up at the guard in the watchtower above them.

Hermione watched as the curse hit home. The guard let out a little cry and then fell from the tower to the ground.

The fence exploded haphazardly in several places. Hermione and Harry both kicked at it hard until it twisted enough to allow them to run through. They were now outside the prison school altogether. Apparently, Sirius had made a good choice for they soon found a rough path leading up from the grassy perimeter of the prison out into the thick forested hill behind the school. They sprinted hard toward the woods and heard fresh shots fly through the air over their heads.

"_Stupefy!"_Harry cried, indiscriminately firing into a mass of guards that were trying to squeeze through the opening they had created and watching as one fell to the ground.

"_Petrificus Totalis!" _shouted Hermione. Her hex struck home on one of the guards just as he was climbing through the opening. Frozen in mid-step, he blocked the entranceway completely.

Harry and Hermione turned back toward the forest and continued to run. They did not stop even as they reached it. Gradually, the sounds of shouting and running grew fainter. But neither held any illusions that they were out of trouble yet.

The late spring sun journeyed slowly toward the horizon as what remained of the Order of the Phoenix and their prisoner reached the top of the hill next to the forest they'd just left. Ron watched as Dumbledore waved his wand almost casually over the large trees next to them as though he was drawing a painting. The trees turned transparent and they could see down into the valley below. In a better mood, Ron might have appreciated Dumbledore's superior magical abilities as well as the breathtaking sunset that reflected off the lakes like light on a necklace of rubies. As it was he made sure to keep a close eye on Nott. Dumbledore studied the scenery closely himself and Ron did not think it was for aesthetic reasons.

"There," he said finally, pointing at a spot just above the horizon in a dense patch of woods. "Do you see it, Remus?"

Lupin hesitated for a moment then squinted. "A break in the clouds?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Recall the legends."

Lupin nodded. "The pentrax frame repels all interference, even atmospheric interference."

Ron watched Nott cautiously for any signs that Dumbledore had discovered something important but the Death Eater remained stoic. He had no doubt he would try whatever was necessary to lead them into a trap. He had argued with Dumbledore before they had left the wooded clearing that they needed to put Nott under the Imperius Curse. He was sure the Headmaster possessed the ability. But Dumbledore would hear nothing of it saying only that too many shortcuts had been taken already - whatever that meant.

Dumbledore nodded. "That's the lake we're looking for. Still at least two days journey, I fear, if we're to avoid being seen. We'll have to pass through a Muggle farming area before we reach the forest with the lakes."

"What's that patch of black down there in between those hedgerows?" asked Ron, shooting a very quick glance down to the valley. "It's not a river, is it?"

"If I'm not mistaken," Dumbledore replied, "that is not a natural feature of the landscape. It appears to be a Muggle lane."

"You mean Muggle cars go up and down on it?" Ron asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "Which means we must be doubly cautious to avoid it. We mustn't be seen. Muggles have all kinds of rules about land and trespassing and we can hardly afford to waste our time trying to explain ourselves."

"It looks like it ends up not far from those woods," said Ron, squinting into the distance. "Maybe we can catch a Muggle transport or something and get there faster."

"Muggle transport is very unreliable, Ron," cautioned Lupin, sounding just like Nevins. "We could end up anywhere. See how that lane winds around? They can't even drive in a straight line."

"Look, how about this then - you can both Apparate and hold onto your memories somehow, right? We'll get the information we need from Scarhead here now and then I'll take care of him. Otherwise, I'm holding you up."

"Far too risky, Ron," said Lupin.

Dumbledore nodded his agreement. "I don't think I have to tell you that a lot of trouble has been created through separation. We have to stay together if we're to have any chance of - "

"Did someone say Apparate?"

Dumbledore and Lupin darted around to find the source of the strange, croaky voice. Sensing a trap, Ron tightened his grip on his wand which was still pointed at Nott. He was rewarded with a thin smile from the Death Eater.

Out of the corner of his eye, however, he could not help but miss the oddity that had just wandered into their midst. An old man, dressed from head to toe in what seemed to be hand woven purple robes and an enormously long pointed purple hat walked out of nowhere up to Dumbledore and Lupin. A galaxy of bright moons and stars were stitched to the outside of the cloak. To a Muggle, his clothes might have been the strangest thing about him. Ron had seen far stranger costumes from visiting guests at the Yule Ball his fourth year. To him, the strangest thing about this wizard - and Ron assumed he could only be a wizard - was that the stars and moons did not move. They also seemed to have been stitched on roughly by hand rather than conjured synthetically like robes from Madam Malkin's. He looked something more like a character from the pages of _Hogwarts: A History_ than any modern-day wizard.

"And who might you be, sir?" asked Lupin.

"Archimedes Wiggins," the stranger declared, drawing himself up as tall as he could. "And who might you fine gentlemen be?"

"It's a trick!" said Ron suddenly, keeping his wand aimed firmly at Nott. "Don't trust - "

But Dumbledore held up a restraining hand.

"I am Albus Dumbledore; this my colleague Remus Lupin; and Ronald Weasley."

"And what about him - eh?" Wiggins pointed his walking stick at Nott. "Does he have a name, too? And what's that you've got in your hand, lad?"

"It's a wand," said Ron incredulously. "Are you sure you're a wizard?"

"Well, what else could I be, dressed like this?" Wiggins replied, sounding rather crotchety. "I was the only wizard in these parts once upon a day. Them lords don't like more than one about at a time, that's for certain." Wiggins chuckled. "A wand, you say?" he said to Ron. "I heard o' them. That chap Merlin's got one, hasn't he? Still - " Wiggins' voice trailed off. "I reckon all o' you have one now. I reckon a lot has changed, hasn't it? There probably aren't more lords or anything these days."

"_Merlin_?" said Ron incredulously. "But Merlin's - "

"Can't you see it, Weasel Face?"

Ron shuddered a little as he watched a fuller, stranger smile work its way on to Nott's emaciated face.

"He's a sign. A sign of wonders."

"That's right," said Wiggins suddenly. "Though wonders I don't know. I shouldn't rightly be here, I suppose." He looked down at the ground, almost thoughtfully. "Still, nice to be back in me ol' stompin' grounds for a few minutes anyhow. Gentlemen."

Wiggins bowed with a flourish and then abruptly vanished into thin air.

"What the - " said Ron.

"Are you going to tell Weasel Face then?" said Nott, looking across at Dumbledore and seeming very pleased with himself.

Dumbledore looked at Ron. He seemed very worried indeed.

"Mr. Nott is correct, I'm afraid. That was a sign."

"A sign?" repeated Ron. "Y - you mean that - he said 'Merlin' but Merlin's - " Ron's voice trailed off. "He was a _ghost_?"

"Not a ghost, Ron," said Lupin wearily. "Someone who has died and is not a ghost."

"But that's not possible."

"It shouldn't be," said Dumbledore. "Voldemort's attempts to drive into the world beyond the gateway are creating more and more instability. Mr. Wiggins was here only for a few minutes. After a while, it could be longer. I fear we haven't much time."

"Why do you fear it?" asked Nott, a feverish passion in his eyes. "Soon all the dead will return. And we will never leave when we die. The Dark Lord will bring salvation from death unto all!"

"The two worlds cannot co-exist," replied Dumbledore firmly. "The Dark Lord will bring only chaos and destruction unless we can prevent him and that is precisely what I plan to do."

Nott opened his mouth to respond but before he could, Dumbledore spoke again.

"I am not here to debate ontology with you, Mr. Nott. We have a mission and you are going to help us succeed. The appearance of Mr. Wiggins has underscored the urgency of our predicament. We need to get moving; we have very little time left."

Nott opened his mouth to deliver another retort but he was silenced again, this time by Ron.

"Shut up!" he said. "Move!" He waved his wand at Nott, indicating that he should continue to walk ahead of them down the hill and out toward the valley. Nott flashed Ron one last hideous smile and then turned to walk in the direction he had pointed.

Harry knew he was exhausted but he forced himself to keep climbing up the path. He could hear the shouts and cries from the voices behind them getting nearer. Looking back down the hill, he could see the searchlights from the school pointed out toward them. He could also see that Hermione was losing ground behind him again. He stopped to let her catch up.

"I'm exhausted!" she declared.

Harry reached out and took hold of Hermione's hand. "Come on," he said. "We can do this. We've got to."

"But, Harry, where are we going?"

"I don't know."

But Sirius would have known.

Harry desperately tried to shut away the pain and loss from his mind. Until Sirius had disappeared, Harry hadn't realized how much he'd come to depend on the man who had called himself his godfather. Sirius had known that his time with them would be short. He had tried to give them the magical abilities they would need to fend for themselves, and perhaps he had succeeded. But it hadn't prepared Harry for the emotional loss. He'd never really had a true mentor his whole life, someone he could look up to, someone he could believe in. Only now he realized that Sirius had been that person. His selfless quest to better them; his insolence in the face of authority; his courage in the face of his own demise. Harry wondered that if he had met Sirius earlier in his life, maybe he never would have grown up to murder his aunt. But then Sirius had told him he'd never really done that - that it had all been a lie. Part of Harry felt like he'd be cruel to his godfather's memory by not believing him now, but another part of him wondered, now that Sirius was gone, whether he could find the courage to have faith in something that his memories still told him was a lie. Maybe the best -

"Harry!" said Hermione insistently. "Harry, please! Please don't stop walking. I need you to stay with me!"

"I - I'm sorry," Harry replied, as though noticing Hermione for the first time. "My mind's not - I'm just - " He sighed loudly.

Hermione looked at him with compassion. "I understand what you're feeling, Harry, but we've got to go on. If we don't lose these guards now, we're never going to get another chance to escape, and that would be a pretty poor way to honor Sirius's memory."

"I - I know - I know that, Hermione. All right, come on."

Harry kept walking ahead and struggled to keep his mind on what he was doing. He knew that Hermione was right; there would be time to grieve later but only if they weren't caught. If the guards caught up to them, it would be the end of their memories of being anything better than worthless convicts. It would also be the end of Harry's memories of his godfather. As much as it pained him to lose Sirius, Harry couldn't bear the thought of not being able to remember their time together.

He and Hermione continued to walk up the steep path further into the forest. The trail became narrower and darker as the forest grew more dense. Hermione stumbled over the root of a tree that neither of them saw sticking up from the path and would have fallen if Harry hadn't held onto her. It was obvious she was completely exhausted from keeping up the blocking charm and then the walk. Harry kept hold of her hand and practically dragged her along behind him. He dearly wished that Sirius had taught him the levitation charm he'd mentioned a few weeks ago, but as with a lot of things, there hadn't been time.

"This path just goes on and on forever!" Hermione said, panting and groaning.

"Just a bit further," said Harry, trying to keep the despair out of his voice. "I think we can't be far from the top of the hill. We drove around the other side of it when they took us to that amusement park, remember?"

"I wish we could be doing something normal like being bored in the rain in an amusement park now!"

"I know, Hermione, but we've just got to go on! We've just _got _to!"

This plea seemed to spur Hermione forward more than anything else Harry had said. The truth was he had no idea where they were going or when they would be able to rest any more than she did. The area around the prison was mostly woods and a few small farms in the distance. Who would possibly agree to take in a pair of escaped convicts? They could be sure the school would increase their efforts to search for them; faster than it would take them to walk to safety, the surrounding inhabitants would know of their escape. They were sure to close their doors to Harry and Hermione or worse, turn them back in to the authorities at the school. Harry vaguely recalled in the years before his crime sitting and watching the television in his aunt and uncle's house and hearing of an escaped prisoner. Police had gone looking for him everywhere: it hadn't taken them more than two or three days to find him. Harry remembered wondering why he had bothered to run in the first place when the odds had been stacked so highly against him. But now here he was doing the same thing. He could only hope that their magical abilities would get them further. But where they were supposed to walking to or what kind of life they might have after this, Harry could not possibly imagine. Sirius had had a plan and a vision but now Sirius was gone.

Harry tried to tell himself not to think so far ahead. For now, they just had to keep walking. They had to distance themselves from the guards. They weren't going to give up. Harry knew this hill; he had looked at it wistfully nearly every day through the bars of their prison. It didn't go on all that much further, surely.

Finally, the path widened slightly and the trees began to thin. Harry felt a cautious hope as he heard his feet touch a grassy clearing and felt the steep ground begin to slowly level off. A sharp wind rushed toward him as he and Hermione moved out onto the exposed ground at the top of the hill. Harry gave his friend's hand a squeeze of encouragement. They had reached the top now and after that they'd be moving downhill. Perhaps then they could put some distance between -

Harry's thoughts came to a sudden stop. Hermione gasped sharply. Both of them froze.

They had made it out into the clearing now. Rocks, grass, and earth strewed the ground on a level summit that stretched several hundred yards across and about forty yards ahead. From where they stood, they should have been able to see the other side of the valley ahead of them. But there was no other side of the valley. Farmhouses did not twinkle their islands of light across an expanse of rolling English meadows. The stars did not gleam in the clear night's sky over the horizon. In fact, there was no horizon at all.

If seeing was believing, forty yards ahead of them, just beyond the top of the last trees they had seen every day from their prison school, the world came to an end.

It was like a grey, almost foggy, non-descript mass, with specks of bright color: blue, red, green, and yellow flickering intermittently like trillions of mutated fireflies hanging in the air. It reminded Harry of a multi-colored version of the snow on a television set.

"Hermione, d - do you see - "

"This is - this is just not - Harry, this is not possible!"

"I think we may have left the possible behind at the school."

Harry looked up. The amorphous grey nothingness cut right across the top of the sky just below the line of the trees they had walked through. On one side were bright shimmering stars and thin wisps of clouds; below a certain point there was nothing but this speckled grayness. A half-moon moved down through the sky near the point where the sky itself ended, its light shining out in all directions except down. It was as though it was drifting toward a black hole.

"B - but Harry," said Hermione. "You and I came here - to this school. Th - they brought us here in one of their prison vans. We drove along a road - down there - " Hermione pointed vaguely at a spot in the grey vortex where the road should have been. " - a - and when my parents came - how did they get here? And that day we went to the amusement park. Harry, you _must _remember!"

"I do remember, Hermione," said Harry, staring out into the mesmerizing void. "But that doesn't mean it actually happened."

"You mean - "

"Think about what Sirius told us. He said he wanted to get us out of this_world_. He also said the whole world had been made up, out of my mind. Well, this would explain what he said."

"Harry, I still don't understand!"

"_Think_, Hermione! Think beyond what you think you know is true. If the whole world we've been living in is an illusion, and we were trapped inside that prison, all that Voldemort would need to do was create a reality up to the end of what we could see. We couldn't see past the top of this hill, or any of the hills that surrounded the prison. Maybe that's all St. Brutus's ever was in my mind, a closed space in a closed valley." Harry pointed up to the sky. "Every night we go to bed thinking that the moon keeps on traveling as it disappears behind those trees; or the sun in the daytime. But maybe it never did. Maybe just beyond our line of sight was nothing, nothing but our false memories."

There was a pause. Harry watched as Hermione put her hands to her head. She had the sharpest mind of anyone he'd ever met but all this seemed beyond her.

"A - all right, Harry," she finally said. "Suppose Sirius was right. Suppose _you're _right. What are we going to do next? Those guards are after us and I don't think the bullets from their guns were an illusion. We can't go in _there_!" she pointed at the vortex. "Are we just going to lead them round and round in circles at the edge of a make-believe world?"

"I don't know, Hermione."

"Well, we've got to do something!"

"I _know,_Hermione, I - "

Harry stopped very suddenly. He had almost gotten used to the idea that they had peeled back the wallpaper of their lives to find it was only a set in a farcical play, but now even that set collapsed all around them. It was as though a malevolent god of the heavens had gathered all of the stars into its fist and left nothing but total darkness. The balmy night air suddenly grew very cold.

"H - Harry," said Hermione fearfully. "Wh - what's happening_now_?"

"I - I don't know - I - "

Harry stopped. He had just heard a sound. A horrible, unnatural sound, a sound he instantly knew meant fear and evil itself. It was a heaving, rattling sound like a poisoned pair of lungs that were drawing in their very last breath.

Perception and realization danced for a moment on the edge of Ginny's awareness, then remembering what had happened, she grabbed hold of wakefulness with two firm hands. Within an instant, her eyes were wide open, and she had sat bolt upright.

"Hello, Ginny," said Malfoy. "You should take things more slowly, you know. I'm afraid my Death Eaters showed a bit too much enthusiasm bringing you here. I made sure they suffered, of course. But I should warn you against any sudden movements."

Ginny reached quickly into the pocket of her dress but, of course, her wand was no longer there.

"What do you want?" she demanded, pressing her fingers down against the crude mattress against which she had been resting to will herself to remain as alert as possible. "Let me go, Malfoy! I'm useless to you! If you keep me here against my will, you'll have trouble, believe me!"

Malfoy said nothing but smiled. It was a most un-Draco-like smile. It was in fact exactly the sort of smile she remembered on the face of Lord Voldemort in the original room at Hogwarts one year ago right before he had ordered Snape to kill her. Right before Snape had not been Snape but had really been Dumbledore. But now there was no Dumbledore to rescue her; she herself had made sure of that.

"I asked you what you wanted!"

"We've been over this before, Ginny, or have you forgotten? I want you. I have your body and I want your will. In time, I will have both."

Malfoy stood up from the strange-looking stool on which he had been sitting and began to walk slowly near her. Instinctively, Ginny flinched back, the locks of her long red hair falling away from her face as she did so. Malfoy unexpectedly froze as though Ginny had thrown a hex at him. He stepped backward and pointed at her face.

"Wh - wh - what did they do to you? What primitive, half-breed scrawling is that?"

"The J'k'ibir? You don't like it? It would go very nicely on your forehead."

Malfoy's face turned an angry red. He pointed a smoldering finger at Ginny's face.

"I made Dolores Umbridge pay to stop her from drawing a scar on your hand and now you run off and let - "

Malfoy stopped in mid-sentence. Ginny flicked her hand across her face and the J'k'ibir ran away. His face transformed into the smile of a pleasant surprise.

"That's much better. I see you've begun to understand my appreciation for your beauty, Ginny. Perhaps in time - "

Ginny flicked her hand again. The J'k'ibir walked back. Malfoy's smile immediately faded.

"I would be very careful, Ginny," Malfoy said, his lower lip tensing in anger. "I could tear that house-elf village apart in my sleep, find the one who put this thing on your face, and then torture it until its little life comes to an end. Would you like that, Ginny?"

Ginny fought her fear down. Part of her wanted to surrender and agree. It would be so simple just to remove the mark, just while she was here. But she knew that she couldn't do that either. The last time she'd been imprisoned by Lord Voldemort he'd slowly taken over her body and her soul, and she'd been left only passive and powerless. Now he wanted her will as well: Ginny knew that if she gave in to him this time, he'd be halfway to taking everything she had left of herself, and she wasn't sure she was strong enough to recover a second time.

"You don't know where that village is," she replied, trying to sound as defiant as she could.

"But it wouldn't be very hard, Ginny. A bit of a waste of time to be sure, especially now I already have you, but if you leave me with no choice, Ginny - "

"Where are we, Malfoy?"

Malfoy smiled. It hadn't been hard for him to see through her efforts to change the topic, but he indulged her question nonetheless.

"We are on the edge of destiny, Ginny. A destiny you could share in - if you'd only let me in."

"Actually, I meant a place."

Ginny knew that Malfoy was unlikely to tell her too much. She didn't know how long he would keep her conscious and she needed to find out as much as she could in that time. She wanted to keep the conversation going, and keep directing the conversation. If nothing else, she could take the time to look around and find out a few things for herself.

Ginny kept her head pointed at Malfoy but she moved her eyes around the room. It was very small but she had the feeling it was part of somewhere much larger. It was a strange, organic-looking room. It was mostly round and there were no corners. The surfaces were rough but fragile-looking, like it had been carved haphazardly out of the wall, the giant sand castle of an oversized child. It was grey and dark: only one torch shone dimly in the corner of a makeshift bracket. She was sitting on a sort of long bed with no blankets. It was comfortable enough but hardly inviting. Malfoy sat on an odd sort of stone stool that looked like an extension of the floor itself. There was no door to the room and no other apparent means of escape. Malfoy must have Apparated here and she had been Portkeyed.

"That's right, Ginny," Malfoy said, following her eyes. "There's no way out. If you must know, we're in exactly the place that you yourself - not to mention your brother and his friends - were trying to reach. You should try and make yourself comfortable. You won't be here for very long. Please forgive me but your misguided loyalties will lead you to resist me and you know I don't want to hurt you. We're very near the completion of my plans - only days are left, maybe only hours. Imagine it, Ginny," Malfoy's eyes lit up with a sudden intensity. "A world with no death. Think of anyone you have ever loved and lost: all of them will come back to you. And you'll never be apart from them again."

Ginny felt the anger rise in her cheeks. She gratefully let it simmer, hoping it could keep her fear away.

"Anything and anyone I've lost, I've lost because of you!"

Malfoy's smile went away again. "I'm very sorry about your brother, Ginny. I had to stop him but you'll be with him together again very soon."

"You're mad, Tom."

Malfoy flinched again as Ginny hoped he would.

"Why do you use a name that doesn't belong to me, Ginny? I became something much greater so long ago and now I am greater still."

Ginny shook her head. "No, I think you're still just Tom, and that's all you'll ever be. You're not immortal and you're not a god, but you're doing your best to destroy everything and everyone to try to become one. Tell me, Tom: this plan of yours - raising the dead and never dying - was this what you promised Malfoy when you took over his mind that night? Or was it fame, greed, and the power to possess pretty girls? I imagine that would have been more to his liking. All of this rot about immortality seems much more the sort of thing an ugly-looking snake who never seems to die would go in for."

Malfoy smiled again. "I could not have imagined that night the greatness of the Dark Lord's plans for all of us, if that's what you mean. But he has taught me much since that night."

"Like how to kill and torture people? How to summon up enough dark magic to blow up the world? All very useful. Why don't you admit that you're terrified, Draco? Why don't you try and resist?"

In truth, Ginny had no idea whether Malfoy was terrified at all or if there was truly anything left of him to be terrified anymore. But if there was, he was in a much better position to end all this than she was.

Malfoy stared at her stoically for a moment, apparently unfazed, but thoughtful enough that he could not master a quick retort. When he spoke, however, it was with steady calm.

"Soon you will stop asking questions like these, Ginny. Soon you will know the gift that the Dark Lord is bringing to all. Soon all of your doubts will be at an end. Until that time, I suggest you rest. I must leave now; there are many preparations that require my attention. There is no way for you to escape from here and there are guards nearby. Do not waste your mental energies trying to think up a way out."

"I will think of anything I can do to stop you, Tom, even if you _can_ forever cheat death. I won't ever forget about Harry."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Ginny? Harry is dead - or as good as - thinking about him will only cause you pain. Why let yourself suffer for nothing?"

"Harry's not dead! He's coming here to rescue me!"

For the first time since their conversation had started, Ginny lost control of her emotions. Tears pricked her eyes but she forced them back. She was determined not to let this monster anywhere near the fortress of her mind again.

Malfoy frowned at her in disbelief. "You're a truly remarkable witch, Ginny," he declared. "What possibly gave you that idea?"

Ginny had no idea what had made her say what she had. She hoped it was an intuition but feared in her heart of hearts that it was only a deluded fantasy. But she wasn't going to let Draco Malfoy know that.

They stared at each other for a moment longer. Malfoy's eyes bore into hers for a few moments and she had the sudden impression he was trying to uncover some kernel of knowledge from the back of her mind. When he was unsuccessful and realizing she was not going to say anymore, he Disapparated and left her.

Ginny waited for the loud crack of Malfoy's departure to fade from the small room. Only then did she allow a sob to leave her mouth and let the tears cascade down her cheeks as her mental defenses relaxed. So, Ron was dead. Or was he? Malfoy had told her he was dead before and he'd been wrong then. And Harry? As good as, he had said. So Harry wasn't dead yet, but Malfoy obviously planned to kill him. Ginny didn't imagine for a moment there was any easy way out of this cell but that wasn't going to stop her from planning her escape.

The rattling sound got nearer and louder. All around Harry and Hermione, it was still completely black.

Hermione suddenly tugged on Harry's sleeve and let out a sharp shriek. Harry spun around.

Up in the black sky just above him was some kind of wraith-like spirit: it was long and covered almost completely in a cloak. Where its face should have been there was only darkness. All that peaked out from the behind the cloak was a horrible grey, scaly-looking arm.

"Harry, what is it?"

"I don't - I don't know," said Harry, backing up but not taking his eyes away from the spirit. "But I don't think it seems very friendly. Run!"

Harry and Hermione sprinted blindly away from the horrible scepter. They had no idea whether they were still on the meadow or where they were running to. The rattling noise grew more insistent and Harry looked back to see the spirit drifting effortlessly above them. He started to run faster. Suddenly, he heard a cry and the sound of Hermione falling. He tried to reach out his hand to grab her but it caught only air. He doubled back around to see her just on the ground behind him, apparently motionless. The spirit hung in the sky for a moment, then slowly began to make its way toward her.

"Hermione!" Harry cried. "Hermione, hang on, I'm - "

But Harry never reached Hermione. He was less than two feet from where she was lying when a second ghost dropped from the sky right in front of him. He tried to duck under it but the creature's head drew level with his. Suddenly, Harry felt as though his mind was being pulled away from him. Memories of strangers danced through his head - a laughing baby, a boy playing chess, a man with a long white beard and small spectacles. They were all smiling but one by one their smiles seemed to disappear as though torn away into a void of meaninglessness. Harry dimly felt pain in his knees and looked down to find that he, too, had fallen to the ground. His head was pounding; more images tore through his mind and this time all of them were horrible: the menacing sneer of Headmaster Snape; the sickly, evil smile of Dolores Umbridge; and more - figures with masks laughing, burning. A baby crying. A woman's voice screaming his name and the high-pitched teal of evil laughter. All this while the scepter's head bowed closer to his. It lowered his hood; it had no eyes, only horrible slimy skin where its eyes should have been. Its mouth was just a large hole, a hole that moved nearer and nearer to Harry. He could feel it sucking away his mind, his memories, his very consciousness. Its cold, dark hands touched Harry's face and then the world began to fade completely around him.

But just when consciousness had almost completely eluded him, one more image found its way into Harry's mind. It started off fuzzily but then grew gradually clear, and finally impossibly lucid as something only in a dream can be.

It was a drawing. Harry's drawing. The head and the face of a girl, still roughly etched on the back of a box of old sweets. Harry suddenly felt a kind of still calm develop inside him. He wasn't going to fade away. His strength would return. Just so long as he concentrated on the drawing.

Harry had no sooner decided this when the drawing exploded into life. The curves and lines of the penciled silhouette began to dazzle with color and form. A head full of bright red hair lit from behind by a setting sun. A milky-white face, round freckles, and soft brown eyes that were filled with all of the meaning the spirit had been sucking away from him. He felt warm arms around his neck and then his own hands were holding silky hair and the soft fabric of a warm cloak. Suddenly, Harry was transported far away from the meadow, far away from the hellish spirit, out to somewhere utterly unknown that felt just like coming home. The girl's mouth opened and a melodious voice began to sound in the middle of Harry's empty soul and stretch out inside it like a pocket of light in an inky blackness.

_I love you, Harry. I've always loved you._

Harry felt a sudden jolt in his arm - his real arm. A bright light exploded from his wand and lit up the scepter's frame. It put its arms up to its hood, screamed in rattling agony, and disappeared again into the sky. Harry felt his head begin to clear. He sat up and saw that the other spirit was leaning over Hermione and had begun to place its face to her lips as though kissing her. Feeling renewed energy surge through his body, Harry got to his feet and tried to rush over, but the light, which had taken the form of some sort of animal, got there before him. It flung its legs high into the air. The spirit threw up its head and began to cry out. Then it, too, disappeared into the darkness. The animal stopped and turned around as if to look at Harry and then it slowly faded as well. Harry felt warm air surround him again and looked up to see that the stars, the trees, and the strange grey mass behind the meadow had reappeared.

He looked at his wand for a moment in astonishment and then quickly reached down toward Hermione, taking her head into his arms. He let out a sigh of relief as he saw her slowly open her eyes though her face was still deathly pale.

"Wh - what was that thing?" she asked. "I - I - oh, Harry, I've never felt so horrible in my life! It was like I'd never feel joy again."

"I know - I - I felt it, too; it was horrible. Hermione, can you stand up? I know it sounds awful but we've still got to get out of here. They could be coming for us any - "

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter. I never dreamed you could chase away the Dementors without even remembering how to conjure the Patronus. Or perhaps your godfather managed to re-teach you the charm, after all."

Harry looked at Hermione. There was a horrible combination of lethargy and fear on her face and he doubted he looked much better. Grimly, she held out her hand to him and he pulled her to her feet. Both balanced gingerly on their toes and turned to face their interlocutor.

Dolores Umbridge stood about twenty feet away from them, her nun's habit blustering in the wind that was blowing out from the vortex behind them. Around her stood several nuns, their expressions completely blank, and about a dozen guards, each with very large looking guns at their side. The guards formed a semicircle around them, trapping their escape back into the forest. Harry and Hermione instinctively backed up but stopped as they felt their feet touch the edge of the meadow and the end of their world.

"Remarkable, isn't it?" said Umbridge. "The power of memory. We think we know exactly who we are and where we are, but then it all fades away like an illusion, the figment of our collective imaginations. I would step away from the edge if I were you. The nexal interface will cut you to pieces. It's not very pleasant."

Harry and Hermione took a small step toward Umbridge but did not come any closer.

"You're not really a nun, are you?" said Hermione. "You're a witch - just like Sirius told us."

"A very astute observation from one who delights in asking awkward questions."

Harry took another step forward. "What did you do with Sirius?" he demanded.

"It's what he did to himself, Mr. Potter. But do not pity him: he's returned where he belongs. And so will you."

"We don't belong _here_, that's for certain," said Harry. "No more than you do."

"Oh, but I'm afraid that you do, Mr. Potter. Both of you. I'm afraid that your godfather only really shared with you part of the story. And it was a very slanted part."

"At least he told us the truth!" Hermione shot back. "Everything you've told us - everything those nuns taught us all those years - it's all been a pack of lies!"

"My dear Miss Granger, I hope you won't incriminate these wonderful ladies on my behalf. Fascinating creatures Muggles - forgive me, a sort of human species that appear like wizards and witches but are unable to practice magic. They have a relentless faith in their own convictions, never pausing to think how limited their little world really is. All of these nuns, as you call them, actually believed they were giving you some sort of re-education. I was surprised at how little magic we had to use to keep them obedient. The Memory Charm mostly sufficed. Of course, tonight I had to put them under a sort of controlling spell. They're not really ready to see all this." She gestured out toward the vortex behind them. "But normally they're extremely docile. They're a little like well-bred pets, you might say."

"Well,_we're_ not pets!" Harry said. "Why are _we_ here?"

"Why, Mr. Potter, this school was created just for you - and your other Muggle-born friends. We do not presume to restrict Muggles in their own world. For some time now, they've been allowed certain territories and they have remained ignorant of our existence. We brought a number here to act as teachers and students and fill out this world, but we really had you in mind. You are a special case - both of you, and the several others like you in the school. In the future, those in a similarly unnatural situation as you will be singled out at a young age and brought here. Their memories will be modified and they will learn in our school."

"What do you mean?" Hermione demanded. "I thought we were wizards. I can perform magic just as well as you can!"

"I think you'll find that's not the case, Miss Granger. Mr. Potter here is a half-blood. You yourself have no wizarding blood at all. Your parents are both Muggles. You have managed to acquire some rudimentary magical skills due to a sort of freak abnormality we do not understand. For many years you were educated as wizards and witches. But that has proved most costly. You have married our kind, poisoned our gene pool, and weakened us. Once we have isolated you and those like you in our school, we will eliminate your abnormality. Wizard-kind will be pure and strong once again. And you will be taken good care of and not subjected to false hopes and standards which you cannot attain."

Hermione shook her head. "You're not going to convince me that telling little Arabella Wycliffe she murdered her father is for her own good!"

"But I'm afraid it is, Miss Granger. We have to convince our students they belong at the school. Otherwise, they will try to escape as you have done. A dose of humility is the only antidote to aspirations beyond one's own nature. Things won't always be as they are now, you know. In time, you'll be released from your prison and returned to Muggle society. Having learned your limitations, you can live out your lives as respectable members of a limited and self-delusional but nonetheless perfectly happy community."

"You mean we'll live the rest of our lives as a lie!" Harry spat back.

Umbridge tutted and shook her head.

"You're both so attached to the truth. I suppose it's not your fault: it's how you've been taught. But the truth can give you nothing worth having: it cannot bring happiness; it cannot bring peace. Imagine if all the world knew the truth about everything: How would the rulers rule effectively? How could the people ever be content? Life is unhappy; truth is unhappier still. Only when we are selectively guided by those with real wisdom can we find true release from the harsh lessons of reality. Even these Muggles know it. Look at yourselves, both of you: weeks before your release into Muggle society, you attempt a foolhardy and dangerous escape. You were both nearly killed - or worse, if the Dementors had had their way. Tell me: was it worth it? I think not.

"If this were a real Muggle prison, you'd probably be killed on the spot. At best you'd be imprisoned again for a very long time. But I am prepared to be generous: return with me now, have a warm cup of tea, a good sleep, and tomorrow you won't remember any of this. You can go on with your football and netball and leave this school knowing you can spend the rest of your lives as good Muggle citizens on your way to a beautiful Muggle heaven. It's for your own good, you know. Would you really prefer to live out your lives obsessed with a goal you can never attain? Pained and longing for a truth beyond your ability to understand?"

There was a moment of silence. Umbridge continued to smile at them like a crocodile beckoning its prey into the water.

"Harry," whispered Hermione. "I - I'm not - I'm not going back."

"Hermione, we've got to - I don't like it but - but can't we at least play for time? Maybe we can try to lose them in the woods or - or something?"

"And then what? No, Harry." A single tear rolled down Hermione's cheek. "They're going to take us back. They're going to use a Memory Charm. And this time there won't be anyone to come and save us. We'll live the rest of our lives as a horrible lie."

"But - but then what - you don't mean - but, Hermione, we'll be - "

"Cut to pieces," finished Hermione. "She might be lying, you know. She's very good at it. But I don't care if she isn't, Harry. Living in that school isn't living at all. You can go if you like, but I can't. I won't."

Harry looked down at Hermione's tear-stained face. He thought about Sirius - how terrified they'd been when they'd first met him, how he had taught them magic and then taught them again, how they had slowly started to believe in themselves, and how he had gone out like a sun trying to save them. And all along he'd been telling the truth: they hadn't killed anyone; they weren't convicts and they weren't sinners.

"I'm staying with you," he said.

"A - are you sure, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Yes."

They turned around to face Umbridge again.

"There, there, Miss Granger," she said. "It's not all bad now, is it? Come along, both of you: everything's going to be just fine."

Hermione and Harry took hold of each other's hands, closed their eyes, and took one large step backward into the abyss.

_ **A/n If you disliked me for that last cliffy, I expect that you hate me for this one. LoL sry but the whole story is cliffhangers!! Now I can no longer give out quick updates. I know I know I'm bein mean but this story is almost over. I hasn't gotten as many reads or reviews as I had hoped... I guess people are waiting for it to be complete before reading it. Thx to the people that have stuck through these giant cliffhanger chapters. Worry not the chapters will still be up in short times just not this short of time!**_


	21. Into The Lair

**Chapter 21**

**Into the Lair**

Ron's arm felt heavier and heavier as he kept his wand pointed at Nott. His adversary looked over at him once or twice. Like a patient predator, Ron knew that Nott could sense he was tiring. He wondered if Nott had also noticed him wince at the sharp twisting pain that still struck his head from time to time, the continued after effects of Nott's abortive curse in the forest, from which he had not yet completely recovered.

The morning sun was stretching just above the trees as they walked. It had been nearly a full day since they had left the clearing where the Death Eater's fateful ambush had taken place. If the fact that Ron was not really at full health wasn't bad enough, they were now traveling in the daytime which upset his biological clock, as he and the original group had traveled by night. Gone now, however, were their magical tents. Dumbledore and Lupin had conjured some coverings to keep them dry in the rain the previous night, but that was about all they had, and their provisions were getting meager as well. They had slept fitfully, Ron and Lupin taking turns guarding Nott. Even when it wasn't his turn, Ron had found himself on edge. He knew that night was when the Death Eater was most likely to try something. As a result, fatigue was beginning to catch up with Ron. Though he wouldn't ever say so to Dumbledore and Lupin, he wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

But Ron wasn't so tired that he didn't pay attention to the conversation going on ahead of him between Dumbledore and Lupin, nor had he failed to notice when they had broken into lower, more guarded tones. He motioned for Nott, who had been dawdling behind the two older wizards, to quicken his pace and Ron matched it in turn. Once close enough, he listened carefully.

" - can find a way to stop Voldemort, I fear it may not be enough," Dumbledore was saying.

"The old wizard, you mean?"

Dumbledore nodded. "The appearance of Mr. Wiggins has complicated matters a great deal. Even if we could stop Voldemort and return every bit of matter and magical energy that belonged beyond the gateway, I fear that the balance between the two worlds may have already been irrevocably altered. Far too many things that don't belong in this world have already passed into it, even if we do take into account Voldemort's bubble dimension on the other side."

"Is there no way to restore the balance?"

"We have to find a way to restore it, Remus; if the balance is too far stretched, the two worlds will implode on each other, more slowly than Voldemort would accomplish it, but the end result would be the same. However, if we could align ourselves with a new balance - "

Dumbledore then went into a lot of technical-sounding magical details, most of which Ron didn't understand and started to become monotonous. He caught Nott straining to listen and then cleared his throat, and indicated with his wand that he should back away from Dumbledore and Lupin.

"Big enough for a whole person to remain on this side?" said Lupin.

Ron pricked up his ears again.

"Something person-sized would probably have to remain on this side," said Dumbledore. "Larger the longer this goes on. And someone would have to regulate the balance very closely. But I'm afraid if you're thinking of Sirius, my friend, it wouldn't work. He's been on the other side too long and his existence in this world is only possible inside the protective bubble. From what he has told us, any being on the other side of the gateway quickly begins to bleed certain parts of themselves with others to the extent that they become inseparable. I'm sorry, my friend."

There was a long pause then and Lupin did not respond. Ron wondered how he was feeling, how he had felt all this time since his old friend had died and now returned, if only for the briefest of visits. He wondered what Harry felt, and whether he still remembered his godfather - wherever he was now.

Ron was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't notice Dumbledore put up a hand to stop them and nearly walked right into him.

"What is it?" he asked.

The headmaster pointed a finger ahead. Ron could now see that the trees ended less than a dozen yards ahead of them. Beyond that was a row of hedges and, on the other side, the Muggle lane.

"We must retrace our steps part of the way," said Dumbledore. "We're close enough that we could be seen here."

Lupin started to turn but Ron remained in place, his wand still trained on Nott.

"What's that noise?" he said.

"Unless I'm very much mistaken," said Dumbledore, "that is the sound of a Muggle vehicle approaching, all the more reason for us to withdraw."

But Ron did not move. The sound was getting louder and louder; he didn't recall his father's old enchanted car making this much noise. But whatever the case, transport was transport.

"Wait, we can get a lift!" said Ron.

"I've told you before, Ron," replied Dumbledore. "It's far too dangerous. Now we need to get back from the lane!"

But Ron still did not move. As far as he could see it, this was their chance. Whatever Lupin and Nevins had said, he knew from his father that Muggle cars could work - most of the time - and they were about to lose their chance to hail this one down.

"You guard him," he said decisively to Lupin. Before his old teacher knew what he was doing, Ron had placed his wand in his hand, and torn off toward the hedgerows.

"No, Ron!" cried Dumbledore. "Come back this instant!"

But Ron did not return. He leapt over two errant branches, ducked through the hedgerows and emerged onto the lane. There was a loud high pitched sound like a choir of out-of-tune doxies which Dumbledore recognized as the screeching of brakes. Following that was a very unpleasant-sounding thud.

"Hermione! Hermione, wake up!"

Hermione sat up and winced in pain. She put her hand to the back of her head and came away with a spot of dried blood.

"I put a healing charm on it," said Harry. "I think it will be all right. Anyway, it was the best I could manage."

Hermione sat up and looked around, taking care not to over-burden her woozy head. They were in some sort of a small chamber, about the size of a classroom. There were no corners in the room and apparently no doors or exits. She was sitting on a dusty, earthy floor with Harry crouching over her. The only thing about the room that wasn't exactly the same as everything else was a small patch of non-existent wall directly opposite the one in front of which she was sitting. The patch was a little larger than the size of a door. It was grey and sparkled with multi-colored dots. It was only after seeing it that everything came back to Hermione.

"Harry, I - oh, goddess, Harry, I thought we were - " Hermione remembered falling off the edge of the meadow, spinning in the air like a horrible top, feeling her insides seem to change places inside of her, and then -

Harry nodded. "For a few moments, I was certain Umbridge _had_ been telling the truth."

"But Harry, what happened?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm not really sure," he said, "but I think we must have come out there." He pointed at the vortex. "And I think we came out rather fast, then slid along the floor, and banged our heads on this wall. All I remember was coming out very quickly and then feeling a horrible pain. After a while, I woke up and you were lying next to me unconscious."

Hermione felt another sharp pain in her head at Harry's words. She watched him point along the floor and noticed that a small layer of dust had been cleaned from the floor between the vortex opening and this far wall, exactly as if two people had slid across it and banged themselves up on the far side.

"But where are we n - " Hermione stopped suddenly and gasped. "Harry, I - I - I'm Hermione Granger."

If Harry thought this was a strange thing for Hermione to say, he did not show it. Instead, he looked at his best friend closely and nodded.

"I - I'm a _witch_," Hermione went on. "I'm a seventh-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm - I'm - _Harry," _her eyes began to wet with tears of disbelief. "I - I _remember_. I remember _everything_. That school. Those nuns. It was all - it was all _lies_ - all of it. It all seemed so real but it - it wasn't. I never burned down anyone's house."

Harry nodded. "And I never killed my aunt, though I think I might have blown her up once."

"But Harry, what happened? The last thing I remember - it was the first night of school. We were sitting together - the three of us: you and I and - oh, Harry, _Ron!"_

"Ginny," said Harry blankly.

Hermione looked across at Harry, disbelief etched on her face. Tears ran down her cheeks and she could see that even Harry's eyes were watering. There were so many things she wanted to say, so many unanswered questions, but it was all so overwhelming that couldn't bring herself to say anything at all. Finally, she settled on the one thing that seemed to defy her understanding the most, no matter how much she thought around it.

"But Harry, _Sirius _- how could he - Harry, Sirius is - Sirius is dead!"

Harry lowered his head and Hermione instantly regretted having said anything at all. But the whole thing was all so impossible. How could he have come back? Where had they been all this time anyway? Goddess, she was in that school nearly a year, all the time believing she was -

"He _is_ dead," said Harry finally, with the finality of a large stone dropping loudly into a shallow pond. "But he came back. Just before - just before they got rid of me - I suppose they must have known he'd told me everything. And so, they had to get rid of me. They must have expelled me to St. Brutus's that night."

"Harry, I don't understand!"

Harry looked at Hermione and sighed. He was silent for a moment, but when he opened his mouth again he told her everything as quickly but as completely as he could, from the day Hermione had first disappeared up until the fateful night when Professor Janus had revealed himself to be Sirius Black, returned from the dead, and he, Dumbledore, and Professor Lupin had explained to him and Ginny the horrible truth of Voldemort's return and his plans.

"All the while, it was Ginny who remembered," he finished. "We all thought she was mad. I mean - I - I tried to believe her, but it was all so fantastic. It wasn't until that night when Sirius came back that I really started to believe her. Of course, it was _our_ memories that were altered, not hers."

"But why was she immune?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. Goddess, what's happened to her? What's happened to all of them? It's been months! Sirius! Sirius must have followed me to the school - he's the only one who knew how to travel freely between the dimensions. And he tried to give us our memories back." Harry sighed. "But he couldn't bring himself to tell us - to tell us about him - that he was really dead - that he really wasn't coming back. I suppose it must have been too much for him a second time, and now he's gone for good."

Harry lowered his head again. Hermione reached over and took hold of his shoulders, then drew her friend into an embrace. This all seemed too much for Harry. She heard a sound catch in his throat, then a loud sob, and finally felt his tears running down her back. Hermione felt an immense feeling of relief when he did. It was as though a thundercloud had finally broken open on an oppressively humid day.

Harry drew back out of the embrace finally and instinctively hid his eyes away from Hermione but she touched her hand to the side of his face. With her other hand, she reached into her back pocket and was grateful to find that the wand Sirius had made for her was still there, even if it had seen better days. She conjured a handkerchief, feeling a momentarily thrill that she now remembered how to do such a simple bit of second year magic, and slowly dabbed the tears away from Harry's cheeks.

"Harry, listen to me," she said in a gentle but persistent voice. "What I said on that hill is still true: Sirius gave his life for us - or whatever it was he had that let him come back to this world. We believed in him even when we didn't know any better and we got out. It's what he would have wanted. And he wanted another thing, too: he wanted to train us so we could come back here, get our memories back, and stop whatever this thing is that Voldemort is doing. And whatever it is, he didn't think we had much time left to prevent it. We've got to go on, Harry. We've got to think about that."

Harry didn't show any signs of listening to Hermione for a moment. He continued to keep his head down. Then he took the handkerchief from her hand, dried his own eyes, and blew loudly on his nose. He then got to his feet.

"Can you stand?" he asked.

"I think so." Hermione tried to get to her feet, winced, stumbled for a bit, but remained upright.

"I think we better start by finding out where we are."

Hermione nodded. "Is there any way out of here?"

Harry looked around. "None that I can find. It all seems pretty solid, except for the vortex."

Hermione held out her wand again. "_Aperio._"

She flicked it around the room. A soft white light emitted and struck each of the walls in turn. For a moment, nothing happened, then a round door-like frame a few feet away from them glowed brightly. Hermione walked purposefully over to the illuminated section and touched her wand to the wall.

"_Alohomora_."

There was an almost imperceptible sound of moving rock. The opening moved slightly ajar, enough for Harry and Hermione to squeeze through. Harry peeked around the corner. A non-descript corridor stretched for a few dozen meters before turning around and moving further forward into darkness. It was round like the room they were in, with no windows and doors. The ceiling was just a little higher than Harry's head. With the exception of a small torch that stuck rather awkwardly out of the wall and lit the passageway very dimly, it seemed just like the home of an enormous burrowing earthworm.

"I suppose the only way is forward," said Harry.

Hermione nodded her agreement. The two friends held their wands out in front of them and cautiously moved out down the corridor. As they left the room behind them, the door closed. Hermione pointed her wand at the now invisible doorway behind them.

"_Flagrate non Specto_," she said.

A bright red X appeared for a moment on the outside of the door and then vanished.

"This will help us find our way back," said Hermione, "but it will only reveal itself to my wand." She turned to face Harry, a grim expression on her face. "Umbridge will know we escaped, Harry, and she probably knew what was on the other end of the vortex. We don't want to make it easier for them to find us than we have to."

Harry looked back at Hermione's handiwork.

"I'm certainly glad you have all your memories back now," he said.

The two friends turned and walked back up the open corridor, then disappeared into the darkness ahead.

Rosemary Pilkington was late. Very late. Her turnips were supposed to have been in Grizedale by quarter to eight to get ready for opening market. A flat tire and a warped fanbelt later, it was well gone nine. Market day in Grizedale was only once a week; if she didn't make it there soon, it would be lost money; this crop wouldn't stay fresh enough for another week for anyone to be willing to buy. Rosemary briefly considered scrapping the whole trip; she could still try to make for the Coniston market tomorrow, even though it was some distance from her farm. Still, she decided, if she just went a little bit faster, then maybe -

The boy came out of nowhere. One second Rosemary was steadying her protesting truck around a sharp curve, the next he was standing there, right bang in the middle of the lane with his hand stretched out in front of him. Rosemary hit the brakes hard; the truck skidded around the lane, its overworked brakes screeching in protest all the way. She slowed right down but not quite fast enough. The bumper struck the boy and he fell to the pavement.

There was an agonizing moment of indecision. Rosemary found her hands trembling as they continued to catch hold of the steering wheel. Suddenly turnips and markets were the furthest things from her mind.

It was his own fault, she tried to tell herself, staring down at her white knuckles. What had the boy been thinking of, standing in the middle of the lane like that raising his hand? Hadn't he heard her coming? Her old Austin Freelander wasn't exactly a quiet vehicle.

Still, Rosemary told herself, trying to calm down. She hadn't hit him all that hard. Maybe he -

Rosemary felt relief rush over her as the boy slowly appeared just above the bumper, clutching the side of his head and wincing. Rosemary noticed for the first time that he was dressed very strangely in what looked like a long black dress. She squinted at him again for a moment - perhaps he wasn't a boy at all? His hair was a bit long and very straggly looking. No, she decided, he was. Must be one of them - one of them - Rosemary felt a distasteful sensation in her stomach, then forced it back. To each his own, she tried to tell herself, just as her son would say. Takes all sorts to make a world. Still, if her dear mother were still alive...

The boy started to move toward the truck. He didn't look very happy. Perhaps he was still in pain. A sudden fear flashed through Rosemary's mind. Maybe he had set the whole thing up - he was going to sue her, go after her money, claim she had been reckless driving. Blimey, he looked just the type, too, down on his luck, driven to desperation...

Rosemary decided to make a pre-emptive strike and opened the door just as he was almost alongside it. She stepped out into the lane.

"Are yeh all right, lad?" she demanded. "What the devil were yeh playin' at, walkin' out into the road an' all, could've git yehself run over!"

"I - I'm sorry," said the boy. "I thought - I'm not used to Muggle carriages - I - I mean _cars_. I thought they worked like the Knight Bus - a - a sort of - well, bus - but bigger than a Muggle bus - I - I mean a double-decker bus that is. It's sort of purple and - "

Rosemary was still staring incredulously at the boy wondering how hard he had been hit in the head when three very strange-looking men emerged from behind the hedgerows. All of them were dressed in the same long dresses. Rosemary wondered for a moment whether they might be priests or something - or _monks_, yes that was it, monks. They had hoods and everything. But they all looked very scruffy, like a load of tramps. What in the righteous Lord's name were they -

Rosemary's thoughts stopped again as she looked properly at the tallest one and stifled a gasp. He had a ghastly, emaciated-looking face; he was obviously a horrible burn victim. Perhaps that's what they were trying to do, get him to a hospital. Maybe that was why the lad had been so anxious to stop her. The other two didn't look much the better either; the middle-aged chap who was standing just behind the taller one and holding onto his arm for support had some horrible scratches across his face. The oldest one didn't seem to show any outward signs of injury, but his long white hair and beard were unkempt and full of little twigs as though he'd been walking through the forest for days.

"Blimey!" she said. "I - I'm sorry. I - oh, gracious, I - "

The old man walked up to the side of her car. He looked down through his glasses at her with a friendly enough smile.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you, madam," he said in a kind but slightly aristocratic voice. "Young people do tend to get a little impatient, but all the same, we're on our way to save the world and I'm afraid we might not make it in time by walking. I've noticed your lane takes us very near where we were hoping to travel. I wonder if you would be so kind as to give us a short lift to the second lake on the left in the next but one valley?"

Rosemary stared at the old man a little blankly for a moment. The next but one valley? And what did he mean - _her _lane? Instinct told Rosemary she should stay as far away from this as possible, but then she started to worry. What if they were injured? Maybe this one had had a right knock about in the head - maybe they all had? If she just drove away and left them, she could be liable - for something, at any rate.

"I reckon you lot need to go to the hospital."

"I expect a good healer wouldn't go amiss, I agree," said the old man. "Perhaps after we're finished at the lake."

It wasn't exactly the sort of response Rosemary was hoping for, but she decided it would have to do. She couldn't just leave these four walking around and she was uncomfortably aware that her Freelander was now standing in the lane.

"Right. Get in. But we're going to the hospital first."

The old man frowned for a moment, but then smiled engagingly. The boy didn't seem to have to be told twice and let himself in through the back door. The man with the criss-crossing scars looked like he was poking something at the one with the burned off face. They got in the back alongside the boy. Rosemary had decided the whole thing was a mistake but then the old man got into the front beside her and smiled again. There was something almost hypnotic about the way he looked at her and Rosemary found herself starting the engine and driving forward.

"See - I told you," said the boy. "Much faster than walking."

"Provided one can keep one's head in one piece," chided the man with the scars, whose voice also sounded much more educated than Rosemary had expected. Perhaps they really were monks - some kind of order out here in the sticks - funny she'd never heard of them before, though. She found herself leaning on the accelerator again. The sooner this mad lot were out of her truck, the better.

"I wonder what this is for," said the boy. Rosemary watched through her rear view mirror as he inspected the power window button as though he'd never seen one before. "My Dad's car didn't have one of these. And what's covered over in the back, anyhow?"

"Turnips," said Rosemary. "I was on me way to market before I ran into you lot. Reckon I'll be too late now though."

"So that's how Muggles get all their vegetables around without floo!" said the boy.

"Primitive."

It was the first time the man with the emaciated face had spoken up.

"Yeah, well," said Rosemary, looking back at the gruesome horror sitting in her back seat and wondering whether she was supposed to take offense or not. "Me 'usband's been wantin' to get a lorry for some time now; what you want to do with a lorry on lanes like this, I asked him? Be like usin' a hippo to weed out yeh garden, wouldn't it?"

"Quite so," replied the old man, smiling.

Rosemary looked back in the mirror to find the burned headed man smiling rather gruesomely.

"Tell me, Muggle," he said. "How does it feel to be present with us at the new dawning? Do you cower in your carriage at the thought of the Dark Lord's awesome might?"

"Shut up!" said the boy, and poked some sort of wooden stick at his side.

"What do you - what does he mean 'Muggle?' Not all of us are Tories, you know!"

"Please take no notice of Mr. Nott," replied the old man silkily. "He is our prisoner."

"Blimey, you lot have escaped from somewhere, haven't you?"

"We seem to have made a habit of it lately."

"Right," said Rosemary nodding. "I thought that was about the size of it. We'll get yeh all right back where yeh belong and get all yeh cuts and various things taken care of. Don't know that there'll be much hope feh yeh unfortunate friend what was in the fire, mind, but they might have somethin' for yeh other chappie's face. Looks like some great cat attacked yeh."

"There's no need to worry," said the man with the scratched face calmly. "These marks were self-inflicted. I am a werewolf."

"Really, Rosemary," said the old man, after a moment's pause, "if I may call you Rosemary: we don't want to put you out. If you'll just let us off near the forest by the lake, then we'll be on our way and - "

"How the bloody dickens did you know my name?"

"I'm ever so sorry," said the old man, "but I couldn't help but noticing. It's inscribed on the inside of your wristwatch. A gift, perhaps."

Rosemary quickly checked to see that the clock side of her watch was still facing up.

"As I was saying," the old man went on, "I think we've inconvenienced you too much already. In fact, with your permission, perhaps I can make a few small modifications to your vehicle so you'll arrive at the market even faster than if you'd never stopped to collect us. It's the least we can do."

"What - what - what are yeh - if yeh start opening and fiddlin' around with me truck, I'm stoppin' right now and throwin' yeh all out - mad or not!"

"Oh, it won't be necessary to open anything," said the old man. "There's no need to worry."

Rosemary watched out of the corner of her eye as the man took a stick of his own out of his pocket and began tapping gently at various points along the dashboard. Well, let him get on with it, she thought. He seems harmless enough. But as soon as they got to that clinic, the better. They'd know what to do with them. Or the police station if they reached it first. She struggled to think if there was one on the way in Brookshire; maybe she could just leave them there. Then they would be out of her hair and this whole business would be -

"There!" said the old man. "That should do it. I do apologize for all this, Rosemary, and normally we wouldn't go sharing our secrets with Muggles, but this is a rather urgent situation. If you don't mind, I'll just press this button - "

"The cigarette lighter? After a fag, are yeh? I 'int brought any extra with me - mind yeh I could do with one about now - so as long as yeh don' leave any butts on me floor, go ahead then."

"Thank you, Rosemary. You've been most understanding."

The old man pressed the cigarette lighter. An ominous noise erupted from the engine. Rosemary was about to ask what was happening when the front two wheels suddenly lifted up off the lane and the Freelander took to the air.

"Wicked!" cried the boy.

Rosemary screamed.

Ginny ran her fingers around the dark, round cell for the umpteenth time, searching for some hint of a trick door, or the ghost of an opening. She'd discovered a bathroom some while ago, complete with a magically flushing loo and a shower, but there was no way out of there either. Ginny couldn't think what she could do to escape short of squirting her captors with the shower head. She settled for giving herself periodic showers to stay alert. She had to be ready anytime to -

Two popping noises signaled the arrival of visitors. Ginny quickly moved away from the wall. Two Death Eaters stood in front of her, one of them too tall and the other too short to be Malfoy. The shorter one took his mask off. He was pudgy and scruffy-looking and had an enormous head as though someone had taken a tall man and hammered him down. Ginny looked at him for a moment before she realized that she knew who he was.

"It's you," she said. "A pity I didn't step on you that day when I was nine and in a very bad mood."

Wormtail gave her a sickly smile and fluttered his fingers about nervously, revealing a faded piece of grey cloth.

"The Dark Lord wishes to see you again," he announced.

"Too busy for a house call, is he?"

"He wants you to behold our glorious destiny for yourself."

"I can hardly wait."

Ginny kept her voice carefully neutral but her heart quickened. They were going to Portkey her out of this cell. Malfoy couldn't resist showing her all of his plans, of course. This could be her only chance at escape.

The two Death Eaters took hold of Ginny's arm roughly and she felt them press the cloth to her shoulder. There was a very quick tug at her hip and then Ginny found herself in some sort of grey corridor, a bit like the room she'd just left - windowless and featureless - and looking like it had been crudely carved out of the earth. She quickly looked around and discovered there were four more Death Eaters here, flanking her on each side. Wormtail and the other Death Eater took a tight grip on her arms and walked her forward. So much for escape, she thought, but her eyes continued to move around.

There were occasional glimpses of light between cracks on the walls to her left as they walked. Ginny soon got the feeling that the corridor was carved alongside some sort of enormous lit room. On looking closer, she discovered that the passageway was not perfectly round as her cell had been: only the right side swooped up toward the ceiling. The left side was more polished and stood at a ninety-degree angle to the ground and the ceiling like a wall in a conventional room. Ginny had the feeling that while the labyrinthine passageway had been carved out by some sort of giant worm, the wall on the left side was more synthetic, as though it alone had required great planning and care. Ginny struggled to look through the openings to see what was behind the wall, but Wormtail pulled her roughly away.

"Let go of me!" she demanded.

The Death Eaters took no notice. They continued to urge her forward. They had walked about fifty yards when they came to a large knobless door. They passed that one but then came to another about ten yards to its right. Wormtail touched his wand to the door in two places and it opened outward in two halves. The Death Eater who had hold of her other arm shoved Ginny forward.

Ginny's first impression on entering the room was how light it was compared with the dark passageway outside and the darkness of her cell. She squinted for a moment, trying to adjust. Once she did, her mouth dropped at the sight before her.

"Oh, goddess," she said.

Harry and Hermione slowed down as they reached another turning point and flattened themselves carefully against the wall. They paused for a moment and, on hearing no sound, slowly walked around the corner. This turning was just as featureless as the one before it except that it ended in two choices: one turning led steeply upwards into darkness while the other sloped slightly downward and was bathed in low light. Both were about the same width across.

"Where to now?" whispered Hermione.

"This way," said Harry with certainty, pointing his wand toward the downward sloping passageway. "I think we should go deeper and there's more light here as well."

Without waiting for Hermione to agree, he walked on ahead. She watched him for a moment and then followed, drawing another invisible X on the wall as they passed.

They continued around several more corners. After each turn, the light grew stronger. It was obviously coming from somewhere ahead of them. Hermione didn't realize she'd been walking so slowly until she came to almost a complete standstill. She and Harry exchanged an apprehensive glance and looked at the wall straight ahead of them. There was clearly something very bright coming from just around the corner. They could see each other quite clearly now. Holding their wands out in front of them, they slowly rounded it.

The passageway continued to wind around toward another corner, this time into darkness, but the wall on the far right was different from the round, burrowing type of walls they had just walked through. It was flat from floor to ceiling and perfectly smooth, as though it was the only thing in these passageways that was artificial. Beyond it was a small alcove, an opening just large enough to accommodate the two of them, though Harry had to crouch down a little to fit through it.

They were standing just outside a cavern of unthinkable proportions. Its ceiling stretched out several stories above them and then disappeared to dizzying depths at least twenty stories below. It was as tall as one of the Muggle skyscrapers or towers in London. Hermione wagered it stretched almost twice the height as the distance from the earth to the top of the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts. Instinctively, she backed away a little from the edge. There wasn't any sort of railing and she didn't think she could survive that sort of fall. Harry remained uncomfortably close for her liking and peered around inside.

The room stretched several hundred meters wide and long. All four sides - _no_, five sides, she corrected herself: the room was in the shape of a pentagon - stretched smoothly from top to bottom. But they were the only things that seemed smooth about this vast monstrosity. All throughout its otherwise hollow interior was a haphazard labyrinth of curving girders. It wasn't like anything Hermione had ever seen before; it reminded her somehow of a child's creative but impractical design for a roller coaster or like the strange hollows that the sea sometimes made when the crashing waves carved out shapes in the rocks. It definitely didn't seem to be made from any design. It was almost impossible to tell what material made up the structure; it was sort of off-white in contrast to the grey of the walls. It had an odd sort of sheen to it, almost like ivory, but Hermione was certain it wasn't really ivory; it wasn't any sort of material she had ever seen before. It was obvious that this material was what was giving off the light; it must have been phosphorescent somehow.

Besides the smoothed out walls, there were two obvious things that weren't natural features of the cavern: one was a long metal-like mezzanine area that stretched out from the side of the pentagon just to their left and down about twenty meters. It seemed to hang out from the side of the wall, held in place by massive steel-looking ropes that connected it to a spot further up. Behind the mezzanine were two small openings in the wall, probably out into another series of passageways similar to the one they were standing in. At the center of the mezzanine was a long sort of ridge that looked to be made of the same ivory-like material that formed the sculpturesque center of the hallway. Strange multi-colored knobs and instruments looked like they had been blasted into the center of the material by some nasty slicing charms - or small Muggle explosives. They looked almost electronic, except that there were no wires and they didn't seem connected to anything.

There was another feature that obviously wasn't part of the natural cavern. It seemed to be hanging from a long, almost invisible cord from the ceiling and ended just across from the end of the strange organic roller-coaster, almost as if it had spun the material out from itself. Hermione knew right away exactly what it was and from the looks of things, Harry did, too. Seeing it in this enormous cathedral, it frightened and awed her far more than it had when she had first seen it in its original location two years before.

It was the archway from the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic. Still attached to the archway was a tattered veil - the veil through which Sirius had once disappeared. It fluttered expectantly like a hungry mouth expecting more victims.

All of this would have rendered anyone speechless - certainly any wizard. But Harry and Hermione kept silent for quite a different reason: they were not the only people present in the cavern. Down on the mezzanine floor, behind the controls, was hunched a tall figure with a bright shock of blonde hair. Standing on the platform just in front of him were six Death Eaters - five were masked; the other had a straggly mess of grey hair and a long nose a bit like a rat's. One other figure stood among them, her arms held by the two Death Eaters on either side. She was a witch - a witch with long, red hair.

"What's the matter, Ginny?" cooed Malfoy. "Has the Animagus caught your tongue? Or have you finally started to believe? Release her. I do not believe she will harm anything. Nor is there anywhere for her to escape."

The Death Eaters let go of her arms, which Ginny shook to re-start her circulation.

"Only because I don't know how to," Ginny said, trying hard to replace her awe with defiance. "And if you mean I believe you capable of creating a horror of horrors, then I knew that already."

A slightly sardonic, almost blissfully Draco-like smile graced Malfoy's lips. It was soon replaced, however, by the feverish, angry intensity that Ginny forever associated with the face of Tom Riddle.

"Do you not see the beauty as well as the power, Ginny? This cavern was empty when it first came into my possession a year ago. Once the gateway took its rightful place, however, it began to conjure its own beautiful sculpture and gradually this cavern grew full of its own light; the material comes from beyond the gateway, you know, Ginny, a sign to remind us all of the wonders that lie beyond."

Ginny looked up to the veil and noticed that even now it seemed to be slowly oozing out the strange wax-like substance. It pooled and coalesced in a ridge just in front of the stone archway like a strange sort of white lava and then flowed down to add to the winding and twisting formations that filled the otherwise empty chasm.

"A warning sign against your own meddling, Tom," Ginny retorted.

There was an angry rumble among the Death Eaters as they heard her use the name but Malfoy silenced them with a shake of his head.

"Dumbledore's words, again," he said to Ginny. "But I can be patient. Soon, I will prove him forever wrong. I can wait just that little while longer for you to turn to my side. And I have excellent news for you, Ginny." The feverish look returned. "After a more precise check of my instruments, I can see we have only hours to wait now; the arc of becoming is returning much faster than expected. By the time the sun sets at the end of this day, a new dawn will have risen for all. Today will see the end of death for all true-blooded wizards and witches."

Ginny's heart began to beat faster again. Trapped inside this horrible place, she had no idea what time of day it was, but it seemed they had only hours left before Malfoy put his final horrible scheme into action. And as far as Ginny knew, she was the only left alive who could stop it: her own selfish attempts to contact Ron had ended the Order's expedition to seize Malfoy's hideout. Perhaps Dumbledore and Lupin were still planning something, but she couldn't be sure of that and she didn't think it was very likely. Despair threatened to cripple her but Ginny forced herself to focus on the daunting burden that she alone would shoulder. It was quite possible that after Malfoy's demonstration of his power, she would be led back to her door-less cell and forced to remain there until it was too late to stop him. She had to try and buy her time as long as she could and wait for her chances.

Ginny gestured at the elaborate set of multi-colored controls that stood out oddly in the raised rock face in front of Malfoy. In truth, the whole thing had a ghastly complexity and power that only terrified her more, but she was determined not to let Malfoy see her fear.

"You're going to punch a hole in the gateway with all this nonsense?" she asked, in what she hoped was a very derisive tone.

Malfoy looked at her slyly. "You want to know how it's done, do you, Ginny? The mad zealot reveals his plans to his enemy just when he thinks she has no chance to stop him?"

"A girl can only hope, you know, especially since you seem to have the 'mad zealot' part down so well. Besides, I think I can figure out part of it myself: this cavern has been perfectly carved out of the rock into a giant pentagon - the pentrax frame, am I right?"

There was another rumble of surprise from the assembled Death Eaters.

"Very good, Ginny," replied Malfoy. "I see Dumbledore managed to learn much more since I last checked in on him."

"And you'll need a nexus - a triangle to complete the magic."

Malfoy looked at Ginny a little strangely. For one fleeting moment, she was sure she had seen a frightened looking boy staring back at her, but then almost immediately that face was gone.

"This equipment represents the conjured fruits of hundreds of years of dark magic, Ginny, hidden by the Ministry, and then built upon in secret by generations of wizards until now I have discovered and perfected it. With it, I will be able to determine precisely when the arc will return. Once the point is reached, the energy from my wand, amplified by the pentrax frame in which we are standing, will be sufficient to conjure the nexus and strike a hole into the other world." Malfoy made a forward motion with his hand in the direction of the veil. "I regret you will not be here to see it, Ginny. Although I have full confidence that your feelings toward me will change when our project has completed, I cannot risk your interference before that time. If you are considering sabotage, I would warn you that I have trained all of my Death Eaters to conjure the triangle and complete the magic. There is no need to worry, Ginny. As soon as the magic has done its work, I will come immediately to release you. Then we will go to witness together the gifts the new dawning has given us. It's true I regret that you won't - "

Malfoy stopped talking suddenly. A deep frown passed over his features. The sound of running footsteps and raised voices were coming from the passageway outside.

"Who dares to interrupt - "

The door opened and Dolores Umbridge came running into the cavern, followed closely by two Death Eaters, who had evidently been trying to stop her. It had been months since Ginny had last seen her and she was struck immediately by the change: the would-be headmistress of Hogwarts had become very thin and pale; her glasses were broken and askew; and her hair was unkempt and tangled. She seemed to be desperately trying to suck in air, as though she had been running a great while and was not used to it. What surprised Ginny most of all, however, was her demeanor; gone completely was the wicked arrogance and sickly self-righteousness. This Umbridge looked humble and terrified and as soon as she saw Malfoy, she fell to her knees as though cowing before the wrath of a horrible demon.

Malfoy straightened himself up and peered down at Umbridge. His face flushed in anger but Ginny also saw consternation. Her heart leapt a little with hope; it was very obvious that something had not gone to plan.

"What is the meaning of this?" Malfoy demanded. "I gave strict orders I was not to be disturbed! Surely your report can wait, Dolores?"

"N - No, my - my - my Lord," Umbridge half-panted, half-whimpered. "I - I have some - some unfortunate news."

"The house-elf failed us? I told you you could torture it if necessary."

"N - no, my - my - Kreacher's plan succeeded. The hound was expelled. But not before - not before - " Umbridge stopped talking and lowered her head further.

"_Speak!" _demanded Malfoy. "Say what you have to tell me - _and say it quickly!"_

"Before he was expelled, the hound helped Potter and Granger escape. They reached the nexal interface themselves. I tried to talk them back but - but - "

Ginny did not understand what most of what Umbridge was talking about, but one thing rang clearly in her ears: Harry had escaped. Harry was still alive. She felt her cheeks flush with hope, but her thoughts were quickly interrupted by the horror of the unfolding scene in front of her.

Malfoy's own expression twisted in anger. "_You - idiot - fool_!" he seethed at Umbridge. "All those Muggles under the control of your Imperius - how could they possibly - that means they're here somewhere!" he bellowed. "_Loose! In these passageways!" _He took his wand out and pointed it at Umbridge. "_CRUCIO!"_

Ginny winced as the curse struck Umbridge. She screamed and began to writhe on the floor.

"_CRUCIO!" _Malfoy cried out again.

"Harry!" said Hermione urgently. "We've got to get out of here; they'll be looking for us any minute. Harry, get back! They'll see you! What - what are you - "

But on hearing Malfoy's booming voice and watching the drama below them, Harry had only walked closer to the edge of their hiding place.

"We've got to act now!" he shot back at Hermione. "While they're in confusion! We might not have another chance!"

Hermione looked back down into the cavern and saw Umbridge continuing to move back and forth on the floor in extreme pain like a snake that had just been be-headed. The other Death Eaters were backing instinctively away from Malfoy, perhaps fearing they would be the next to receive his wrath. Wormtail had put both his flesh and silver hands to his mouth and looked to be biting nervously away at his nails. Only Ginny had remained exactly where she stood. As Hermione watched more closely, she could even see that she had taken a small step nearer to Malfoy and Umbridge and away from the other Death Eaters.

"Don't just stand there!" Malfoy screamed at the remaining Death Eaters. "Spread out! Find them! Get her back to her cell!" he pointed at Ginny. "They'll be coming for her!"

Hermione watched as one of the Death Eaters took something out of its pocket and began walking toward Ginny.

"Now's our chance!" said Harry breathlessly. "Hermione, how are you doing with short-distance Apparation?"

"Considerably better than you if I remember. We'd only just - "

"Good."

"_Harry!_"

Before Hermione had realized what was happening, Harry had leapt dangerously into the air. He struggled to recall his newly refreshed memories from Nevins' tutoring the previous year as well as Sirius's flying lessons and tried to slow and direct his fall onto the mezzanine where Malfoy, Ginny, and the other Death Eaters were standing. He was certain he did not want to miss it and fall down deep into the chasm below. Swooping like a bird of prey and still unseen, Harry accelerated his fall at the last moment and dug his feet into the back of the Death Eater approaching Ginny. The Death Eater let out a loud groan and fell painfully to the ground. The grey cloth Portkey he was carrying in his hand fell out in front of him.

"POTTER!" shrieked Malfoy.

"Harry!" cried Ginny.

The other Death Eaters reached for their wands and fired at Harry but he rolled quickly to the ground and scooped up the Portkey into his hand, then got up and took hold of Ginny's arm.

"Stop them!" demanded Malfoy.

"HERMIONE!" Harry cried out.

There was a loud pop and Hermione was instantly at their side. Harry pressed the Portkey against the arms of the two girls just as a stunning hex had formed on Malfoy's lips. A flash of red light shot out toward them but it never reached its target. Harry felt a tugging sensation in his hip. The next thing he knew, all three of them were standing in a small, grey room.

Hermione quickly took her arm back and began looking around the room liked a trapped animal.

"Where are we?" she asked breathlessly.

But neither Harry nor Ginny seemed interested in answering her question. Ginny was looking into Harry's face. Her fingers moved upwards almost of their own accord and traced their way around his cheeks and across the scar on his forehead before finally settling into his never more unruly mop of hair.

"Oh, Harry," she said in a tiny voice, almost as though she had suddenly reverted to a little girl. "Is it really you?"

Harry nodded slowly, his green eyes staring deeply down at her face.

Ginny's eyes pooled with tears that rolled quickly down her cheeks. All of the horrors of an instant before seemed to melt away. She was suddenly completely convinced by the totally irrational feeling that everything was going to be completely all right now. Harry had come to rescue her - just as he always did, just as she'd told Malfoy he would. But then another horrible thought entered her mind.

"Harry? Do - do you - " Ginny stopped as a sob caught in her throat. "Do you remember me?"

Harry didn't answer. He continued to stare down at Ginny and ran his fingers gently through her hair, stopping only when he had let a single strand rest just behind her ear. His face lit up with the smile of the boy on Platform Nine and Three-quarters who had just learned he would going to Hogwarts for the very first time. Then he slowly moved his hands toward her back and moved Ginny's face toward his. Their lips touched and Ginny felt his kiss inside her. Blood rushed fast to her cheeks; her whole body and soul seemed to tingle just as it had that very first time they had kissed in the bathroom at Hogwarts one year before. Ginny felt parts of herself she hadn't even remembered return from where she had locked them away months ago, hidden by her own mental defenses the night that Harry had left. Harry slowly, reluctantly moved away, but let his hand continue to lovingly cusp the side of her face. There was no doubt in Ginny's mind he knew exactly who she was.

Hermione cleared her throat loudly.

"I - I don't want to interrupt anything important, but since they created the Portkey, it's a fair bet they know exactly where we are right now."

Ginny's head swung suddenly toward Hermione, as though noticing her there for the very first time. Before her friend could react, she had walked over and grabbed her into a vice-like hug.

"Goddess!" she said. "Do you know that no one believed you existed for months except me? I started to think I really _had_ made you up."

The two friends pulled out of the hug and Hermione smiled a little weakly, obviously unsure what to say. So much had happened to them, and she couldn't begin to understand it, but she also knew that this wasn't the time to stop and catch up.

"Where are we, Ginny?" she asked.

Ginny looked quickly around.

"Blast, we're back in my cell again!"

"Is there any way out?" Hermione asked, slightly panicked.

Ginny shook her head. "Believe me, I spent the better part of the last day trying to find one. There aren't any doors. The only way in or out is by Portkey."

"We could reverse the polarity of the Portkey," suggested Harry.

"And wind up back in Malfoy's throne room?" said Hermione.

"Well, we can't just stay _here_!"

"Wait!" said Ginny. "I didn't have a wand. There might still be a way!"

Hermione quickly took her wand out and began to scan the wall for an opening, the same way she had searched the slightly larger room in which she and Harry had arrived. She stopped as she reached a point on the wall diagonally opposite Ginny's makeshift bed and frowned.

"Is it a door?" asked Harry.

"Not really. But it's a kind of opening. The wall is very hollow here. I think it might be a natural cave or something."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and without saying anything more, both nodded.

"I would step back, Ginny, if I were you," Harry said.

Harry and Hermione aimed their wands at the opening.

"_Dissectum!" _they cried out in unison.

The rock imploded to reveal a dark, narrow passageway that twisted back into darkness. As Hermione had said, it was different from the rounded passageways they had first walked through; it was even less like the smooth walls of Malfoy's enormous cavern. It looked like some sort of natural opening in the rock, which confirmed Harry's suspicions that they were somewhere deep underground.

"_Lumos!_" said Hermione, coughing as she inhaled the dust that had flown up into the air.

Her wand lit up the inside of the passageway; it was rough and full of rocks and pebbles; stalactites and stalagmites jutted up and down at various angles. It started as a crawlspace but then seemed to get a bit larger at the edge of Hermione's light.

"It's the best we can do, I think," she said. "We'd better get going."

Harry and Ginny nodded their agreement and followed her into the cave. Hermione was halfway in when she turned around and pointed her wand back at the floor of Ginny's cell.

"Accio Portkey," she said.

The grey cloth which Harry had let fall to the floor when he was kissing Ginny flew up into her hand. She took hold of it and placed it into the pocket of her sweatshirt.

"Just in case," she explained, then turned around to lead the way back into the cave. Once the three of them were inside, Hermione pointed her wand back at the opening into the cell.

"_Reparo,_" she said.

Ginny and Harry winced and ducked as a shower of rubble flew back up from the floor of the cave and reassembled itself as a solid wall behind them.

"Well, that _might _stop them from finding us," Hermione offered. "Come on." She began crawling further into the cave.

"I've forgotten how frightening she is," whispered Ginny to Harry. "Harry!" she tugged on his arm. "Please - whatever happens, don't leave me again!"

Harry held onto her arm protectively. "I won't," he said fervently. "I swear!"

And as they followed Hermione further up into the dark cave, Harry hoped that his words would prove true.


	22. The Sinking Ship

**Chapter 22**

**The Sinking Ship**

"I'm ever so sorry," said Dumbledore, smiling compassionately at Rosemary Pilkington as he, Lupin, Ron, and Nott stood just outside of her truck on the edge of the forest. "I imagine this must have been quite a shock for you, but it really was for the best."

Rosemary whimpered.

"I'm rather afraid that I'm going to have to use a Memory Charm on you. The secrets of wizards are really not for Muggles like yourself to know. But I've managed to repair the bad fanbelt and that awful-sounding motor in your truck - not that you'll remember it, of course - you'll just find them working again and no doubt decide it was one of those things."

Rosemary whimpered again.

"Oh, and I've pre-programmed your truck to fly you just to the edge of the market. The Memory Charm will take effect immediately after you land. You'll find yourself there faster than if you'd been driving down the lane. And I've freshened up your turnips a bit, too; I'm afraid they looked a little sorry for themselves. All arranged, then. Any questions?"

Rosemary opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out.

"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "And try not to worry too much about the missing time. It's a bit silly when Muggles spend their whole lives on television telling everyone they've been abducted by aliens just because of a Memory Charm. At any rate, I'm sure you're far too sensible for that." Dumbledore pointed his wand nonchalantly at Rosemary. "_Suspendus Obliviate._"

A white light briefly lit up Rosemary's face but otherwise she remained completely passive. Dumbledore bowed politely and touched his wand to the truck. Only when it surged across the grassy meadow like a racing car and then zoomed high into the air did Rosemary finally let out another long scream.

"Terribly sensitive creatures, Muggles," remarked Dumbledore. "I do hope she'll be all right."

"I would worry about yourselves if I were you," said Nott, with a sinister tone. "Weasel Face here will probably go unnoticed, but you're madder than that old Muggle if you think that Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin are simply going to walk up to the Dark Lord's palace undetected."

"How kind of you to remind us, Mr. Nott," Dumbledore remarked.

As if on cue, he and Lupin took two small flasks from their cloaks and drank the contents. Ron watched as their skin began to bubble very quickly; the effect was much faster than he, Harry, and Hermione's attempt at Polyjuice Potion their second year. Ron realized that he was seeing the effects of the advanced potion Dumbledore had used to trick Voldemort the previous year. Within seconds, Dumbledore and Lupin were replaced by two myocorps. The Dumbledore myocorp was a bit taller and sported long white hair but otherwise they were unrecognizable.

"You!" said Nott, pointing at Lupin.

"Very good, Mr. Nott," said a strangely well-educated voice from out of the myocorp's mouth. "Lord Voldemort should be careful who he asks to ferry his Death Eaters around the lake."

Ron felt pleased as Nott seethed at the deception.

"However, he was never kind enough to invite me into his little hideaway. With your assistance, Mr. Nott, I'm sure we can make an exception this time."

"Do you expect me to betray the Dark Lord now we are so close to his final triumph?"

In response, Nott found three wands pointing in his direction.

Nott let out something of an abbreviated snarl and turned to walk up the hill toward the forest behind them. Ron immediately moved forward to cover his back and Dumbledore and Lupin, in their myocorp disguises, brought up the rear.

Ginny, Hermione, and Harry half-walked, half-crawled through the cave. Sometimes it would open up into a wide space while at other times, the walls would narrow so close they could barely squeeze through. At every crevice, they feared they would reach a dead end but each time, to their immense relief, the opening would widen again. The passageways through the rock twisted back and forth. Occasionally, they would find themselves balancing their way down into a miniature chasm, but mostly the cave led them upwards.

There was much they hadn't told one another about their journeys, but the three Gryffindors were more intent on trying to find a way out of this labyrinth than catching up on what had happened already. Ginny, for her part, had remained silent about Ron and the others. She knew that sooner or later she was going to have to tell Hermione and Harry but she hoped to hold off on that moment for as long as possible. First, they needed to find a way to get out of here and then they needed to stop Malfoy. There were only hours left.

But there was one thing Harry had wanted to know.

"Malfoy," he said. "He's - "

Ginny nodded. "He's channeling Voldemort. He _is _Voldemort."

Hermione turned around and gasped.

"Remember what Sirius told us," said Harry.

Hermione nodded. "And Dumbledore just let him back into the school. Oh, gods."

"No wonder it was so easy for him," said Harry sighing. "And now he's going to blow up the world in a few hours?"

"That's basically what he said," Ginny confirmed. "Of course, it's not quite how _he_ sees it."

"Look, don't think about it," said Hermione in a business-like voice. "We've got to get out of this cave thing first and then we can - "

Hermione stopped talking. They had just finished a particularly steep climb. She was in the lead and had just put her hand on the roof of the cave to steady herself.

"What is it?" asked Harry. "Does the passageway end?"

"No," said Hermione. "It goes on sort of level, but I think I just - "

She pushed up at the same spot on the stone just above her again. There was a shifting sound and a perfect slab pushed up away from her hand.

"A door!" said Ginny.

Hermione stuck her head slowly up through the opening. Harry and Ginny waited for a tense moment.

"It's some kind of passageway," she whispered back finally. "I think - I think it's not far from the opening to that great big cavern where Malfoy was. Everything's very well lit."

"Hermione, come back down!" cautioned Harry. "That area's bound to be swarming with Death Eaters."

"I can't see anyone, though," reported Hermione's voice. "Perhaps they're just - "

There was the sudden sound of someone shouting a hex. A popping noise whizzed through the air and a bright red light briefly lit up the cave through the opening. Hermione screamed and dropped quickly back down into the cave, the stone slab crashing back loudly behind her.

"Not good!" she declared. "Get back!"

Ginny, who had been the last of the three up the cave, tried to slide quickly back down the narrow crevice up which they had just been climbing but the path was too steep and she quickly lost her footing. Harry tried to grab her from behind to stop her fall but his own feet slid out from under him and both went sliding fast down the slippery rock. They continued to pick up speed until they reached the rocky opening about ten meters below. Ginny's knee collided painfully with a stalagmite and then her back was crushed into the floor as Harry landed on top of her.

Harry managed to roll himself away, clutching his ankle. Ginny winced as a sharp pain punctured its way through her back. She looked down to see that there was a deep jagged cut in her knee.

Above them, Ginny and Harry could hear the ominous sounds of hexes whizzing through the air. They tried to make it to their feet but their bodies did not cooperate. Suddenly, there was a popping noise, and to Ginny's relief, Hermione appeared just in front of them, her face cut and covered with dirt, but otherwise apparently unharmed. She immediately raised her wand and fired back up into the crevice then leapt to the opposite side of the small opening as a hex crashed down and exploded bits of rock into the air.

"I can't - " she started to say, panting. "We've got to get - they're coming - "

Three loud pops resounded through the small space. Masked Death Eaters appeared in between the three friends. Harry took aim at one and stunned him back to the wall but the others pointed their wands at Harry and Ginny. There was a chorus of disarming spells and both of them were flung back against the rock, their wands hurtling off into space and rebounding off the dark rocks around them.

"Harry! Ginny! Quickly!" cried Hermione. She took the Portkey out of her pocket and was held it in front of her.

But Harry knew they could never reach Hermione. They would never get past the Death Eaters that stood between them.

"Hermione, get yourself out!" he cried.

The Death Eaters swung around toward Hermione and fired, but before the shots could reach her, she had vanished.

The three Death Eaters looked around the opening.

"She had the Portkey," said one of them finally, in a horrible rasping voice. "She could only have gone back to the cell. Prepare another one and follow her."

One of the other Death Eaters bowed and then Disapparated.

"We'll take these two," said the raspy-voiced Death Eater to his remaining confederate. "The Dark Lord will be most pleased."

Harry tried again to stand up but the pain in his head was too great. He looked over and saw that Ginny was barely conscious. There was a large gash in her knee and a cut on her forehead from where she had been thrown back against the wall when the Death Eaters had disarmed her. All he could do was clutch her protectively toward him as they approached. And he was fairly certain that would not be enough to stop them.

Hermione felt a tug at her hip and found herself back in the cell.

"Oh, rabbits - I mean pixies!" she said, looking around. "They're sure to find me here."

Hermione looked at the grey cloth in her hand for a moment and then her eyes widened.

"Reverse the polarity," she muttered to herself. "Madness, really. Still, it's the only way. Professor Flitwick, don't fail me now!"

She placed the grey cloth on Ginny's prison bed, pointed her wand at it, closed her eyes, and began to mutter what she desperately hoped was the right charm.

The forest went on for longer than Ron had expected. Once or twice, he suspected that Nott was leading them astray, but then he remembered that Professor Lupin had been through these parts before. Hopefully, he would know if they were headed the wrong way.

Finally, after a great deal of climbing, they reached the top of the hill and began to work their way downward. Ron had expected to see the lake from the top but the forest was so densely foliated that it couldn't be seen until they were almost at its banks. It had been cloudy with a touch of fog on the other side of the forest. Ron was surprised to find, as they reached the other side and could see both lake and sky again, that the clouds had cleared up completely and the midday sun was shining brightly down on the bright blue, almost turquoise lake. It was about twice as large as the one at Hogwarts, and much wider across, though only a little bit longer. A forest surrounded the entire lake but for a small meadow about halfway down its length and at its narrowest point. There were no signs of Muggle houses or farms. Ron wondered if it was enchanted like Hogwarts so they couldn't find it.

Nott stopped walking just as they reached the water's edge.

"Keep moving!" Ron prodded his back with his wand.

Nott turned back to look at him contemptuously.

"I would dearly enjoy seeing you fall to the ground in much pain, Weasel Face, but I do not wish to provoke you and your wand any further. There is a magical shield surrounding the lake. We cannot advance unless I deactivate it."

"He's telling the truth," said Lupin before Ron could ask. "You will deactivate it for us, Mr. Nott; we will be watching."

Not wanting to take any chances, Ron followed Nott to the base of a knarled, twisting tree whose longer branches dipped into the lake. He placed his foot into the hollow of the tree and stepped on an innocent-looking stone that was wedged inside. He then walked past the tree and out toward the surface of the lake.

"You may pass now," he said, smiling thinly back at them, and leaning slightly against a long falling branch.

Ron cautiously stepped past the tree himself, his wand still closely trained on Nott.

"It seems Weasel Face has managed it," Nott remarked, still smiling.

Lupin and Dumbledore looked at him cautiously, as much as myocorps can appear cautious.

"Where are the other Death Eaters?" demanded Lupin. "This place is normally swarming with them."

"I imagine they're occupied," replied Nott. "You saw the signs."

Dumbledore sighed gravely. "If we are truly near the time, then Voldemort would require their full energies for his final plans."

"All the same," said Lupin.

"I quite agree, Remus," said Dumbledore. "It does seem a little too easy."

"What should we do?" asked Ron, turning back very quickly toward Lupin and Dumbledore.

"We'll need to make our way around the bank," explained Dumbledore. "So far as I can see, there are no longer any - "

"LOOK OUT!" cried Lupin suddenly.

Ron swung back around to cover Nott but it was too late. The Death Eater had reached his hand up toward an innocuous looking hollow in the branch he had been leaning against and pressed his scarred fingers into it tightly. Lupin leapt toward him but collided against an invisible barrier and fell hard to the ground.

"You will deactivate it again!" demanded Dumbledore.

Nott roared with sickening laughter. "Oh, but I'm afraid not. You can torture or kill me if you have the stomach for it, but the shield has a failsafe for precisely this purpose: it cannot be turned off again until the sun rises from the east and hits on precisely this spot." Nott gestured at the hollow. "But by all means stay if you like; you will still be far closer than most to the center of our new world as it begins."

Dumbledore looked down at Lupin who nodded wearily.

"I'm afraid it's true," he said, getting to his feet. "Apparating won't work either. And no spells of any sort can cut through it."

Ron stepped up toward Nott and shoved his wand hard into the Death Eater's back.

"You still haven't got rid of _me_, though."

Nott smiled wanly. "You seem to have dogged me too close. Except for turning your head away from me at the crucial moment, your old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher should be very proud of you."

Keeping his eyes and wand still carefully trained on Nott, Ron walked back slowly toward Dumbledore and Lupin and held out his hand. He was inches away from where they were standing when he felt it hit the invisible barrier. He tried it again in several places but it was no use: there was a shield dividing himself and Nott from Dumbledore and Lupin, a shield that presumably stretched all the way around the lake.

"Let me take him then," said Ron, after a moment's pause. "I still have the wand; he doesn't. You heard what he said; it's our only chance."

"No, Ron," said Dumbledore. "This barrier isn't above a good counter-charm. Given time and concentration, we will manage it, if we all put our heads together."

"But we don't have enough time!" Ron protested. "You heard him; there could be only hours left!"

"Ron, just be patient!" said Lupin. "If we don't succeed, then we'll think of something else."

"Oh, why not let Weasel Face enjoy his moment of glory," cooed Nott. "He's been so looking forward to it."

"We have to stay together," said Dumbledore, ignoring Nott. "It's our only chance."

Ron continued to train his wand at Nott, but his heart filled with what his two teachers were telling him. He wanted to trust them completely; he wanted to believe they could fix all this mess, a mess that was partly the creation of his own shortsightedness. Ron thought back to the beginning of his sixth year, how Harry had been crushed by the guilt of Sirius's death, how he'd insisted he was going to start trusting Dumbledore again, how he had left the headmaster to make the decisions for which he could no longer bear to take responsibility. But had that been the right thing? Dumbledore's plan had worked but it had very nearly come at the cost of all of their lives. Ron shuddered as he remembered the heavy stone slabs from the ceiling of the original room falling down on himself and Hermione. And what if he hadn't stopped that Muggle car? What if they'd just kept walking on? They wouldn't even have made it this far, or maybe not before it was already too late. Ron wasn't sure if it was his head or his heart that was telling him to go on, whether he was a grown-up wizard or an overgrown child about to make another stupid mistake. All he could do was act on what he believed was right; maybe that was all anyone could ever do.

He pointed his wand at Nott.

"Get away from that tree!" he commanded. "And move! Go on, around the outside of the lake and up to that meadow! We're off to find your boss!"

"Ron, no!" cried Dumbledore.

Ron found himself grateful that guarding Nott gave him an excuse not to look back at Dumbledore. Myocorp disguise or not, he was fairly certain he did not want to see the expression in the headmaster's eyes.

"Ron, think about what you're doing! What's at stake - not just for you, for all of us," Lupin implored him. "If you take Nott with you now, we have no chance of getting inside Voldemort's base."

"I have thought!" Ron retorted. "And this is what I've decided to do! _We don't have time!" _He pointed his wand at Nott again. "Let's go!" he said.

Hermione finished the charm and placed her wand to the Portkey. It glowed briefly. She looked at it for one moment more and drew in a deep breath. She knew that even if this did work, she would end up exactly where they had brought Ginny away from her cell the first time, probably very near Malfoy's control area. It was probably swimming with Death Eaters. If only -

Hermione's thoughts were cut short by the popping sound behind her. She didn't bother to turn around to see the Death Eater before catching hold of the Portkey again. She felt a sharp tug and found herself immediately back in one of the old passageways. She swung her wand back and forth, ready to hex any and all Death Eaters, but none faced her. Light streamed through two open doorways on the left wall, a wall that was sheer and clean. She gasped and quickly moved to the side of the wall as the shadow of a Death Eater walked slowly walked past the second doorway and then slowly back again. She briefly swung her head back and saw that the passageway finished in a dead end. It still stretched for some way ahead of her but she would have to walk past both of the doors without being noticed by the Death Eaters. She doubted it would be very easy.

Of course, she could - no, that would be suicidal - but, yes, perhaps it was the only way.

Not wanting to stop and second guess herself, Hermione ran quickly up to the first opening and ran right through. She found herself on the left side of Malfoy's mezzanine control area. Two Death Eaters guarded the right door; both had their backs turned toward her. She was about to follow through with her plan but then froze. She was standing only inches away from the equipment. If she could somehow damage it now, then perhaps -

"THERE SHE IS!" a voice cried out. "_Expelliarmus!"_

Hermione gasped but Disapparated before the hex could reach her. She re-Apparated in the alcove where she and Harry had originally watched Malfoy and Ginny talking and looked down to see the Death Eaters staring backwards and forwards in confusion. Another one rushed in.

"Where did she go?" he demanded.

"She Disapparated."

"She can't have gone far; she'd have to know where she was going. Search the perimeter corridors!"

Hermione moved away from the alcove and rested her back against the wall. They were bound to search for her here - and soon. She decided to retrace her steps down the passageway she'd originally entered with Harry. She remembered there had been another path - a path leading upward, maybe up to the ground level. She started to walk in that direction when she heard footsteps, still distant but definitely coming down the corridor in her direction. Frantically, she turned heel and began running back the other way, hopping on the toes of her trainers so as not to make any noise. She cast her Seeking Charm around the walls on the side away from the cavern and was finally rewarded when it revealed an opening. Hermione reached over and pushed against a rock then found a staircase. Her heart sank when she saw that it lead back downward.

I suppose I don't have much choice, she thought, and walked inside, taking care to close the opening back behind her.

"Don't slow down; keep moving! I'm right behind you!"

Nott urged his protesting body forward. The sun was getting stronger now. Even with his hood up, it felt it like it was burning away Nott's face. Anger mixed with the pain. There were so many ways he wanted to torture this Weasel Face now and though all involved inflicting unimaginable pain on the blood traitor, none completely satisfied Nott's thirst for vengeance. To think that he was prisoner to this fool while the Dark Lord ushered in their new destiny. He should be down there with him helping to prepare and sharing in the glory.

Still, Nott knew that he would have to be patient and bide his time. The goblins would take care of the old fool and the werewolf: the shield had set off an alarm that would summon them. That only left Nott to deal with Weasel Face; the Gryffindor slime was already getting tired and he had let himself get distracted several times already. Nott knew he had to save enough energy to seize the moment, then the last representative of this pathetic Order would finally come to an ignoble end.

Nott walked a few more steps forward, then fell down in a heap on the grass.

"Get up!" barked Weasel Face. "Get moving!"

Nott looked up at him for a moment. He wondered how bright red the blood traitor's head would become if he started to strangle him now. So entranced was Nott in his fantasy that he failed to notice Weasel Face barking like a horrible rodent again.

"I said '_Move_!'"

"Move where, Weasel Face? There isn't anything else but forest after this."

"You - you mean - " Weasel Face looked stupidly around him. He seemed to notice he was standing in the middle of the meadow. Nott nonchalantly picked up a strand of gillyweed from the side of the lake beside him and began to munch on it.

"What are you doing? Put that down!"

Nott obliged and sighed wearily. "It's gillyweed, Weasel Face. It grows here in bunches."

"Y - you mean." Weasel Face's head began to glow with a faint spark of understanding. He looked out toward the lake.

"It's under water or didn't the old fool tell you? How else would you like to get there?"

By the passageway right under my foot, thought Nott. But then it wouldn't do to make things too easy for Weasel Face, would it?

Weasel Face looked quickly out to the lake and then back down at Nott. He pulled away a handful of his own gillyweed and started eating it. Nott continued to do the same but Weasel Face waved his wand at him.

"Put that down!"

"You won't find the entrance on your own."

"I didn't say I was going to," replied Weasel Face, his words even more indistinct than they usually were owing to the gillyweed he was chewing. "_You're _coming with me but you're not having any of this!" He held up the gillyweed that was still in his hand. "A little incentive for you to work a bit faster."

Nott frowned. He hadn't bargained on this. He considered telling Weasel Face about the passageway through the meadow after all, but that would make things too easy; the Dark Lord's plan was at a delicate stage. He doubted that Weasel Face could really do anything to stop it but, if nothing else, Nott knew the Dark Lord wouldn't take kindly to the interference and that he would be the one who was blamed. This way, he had a better chance of finding an opportunity to get rid of Weasley. By the time they reached the entrance on the floor of the lake, he would enter it alone, and take his rightful place in the Dark Lord's new world.

Nott smiled up at his captor, then got to his feet and began to walk toward the water.

The staircase seemed to go down forever. With every step, Hermione felt her spirit crushed even further. How was she ever going to get out of this? And she couldn't go back. The Death Eaters were up there in the corridor. She kept her wand trained on the wall all the way down but there didn't seem to be any opening. Finally, the staircase ended in what looked like another passageway.

Hermione looked forward cautiously and pricked her ears open. She couldn't hear anyone but it was very dark. She walked cautiously forward and felt a cobweb brush past her face. It felt as though neither the staircase nor the passageway had been recently used. She continued to walk forward cautiously and rounded another corner. There was a thin sliver of light coming through a small opening just where the ceiling and the top of the wall met. She repressed a gasp as she made out two pairs of feet on the other side of it. She was about to turn around and slowly walk back when she heard voices.

"Potter and Weasley await your interrogation, my Lord."

Wormtail.

"Do not think that I will overlook your failures, Wormtail," came Malfoy's reply. "The mudblood is still loose and you and your guards have failed to find her. It is _unthinkable _that a creature so foul is wandering about so near the time of our new becoming! And do not think she is above causing irreparable harm to our plans!"

Hermione aimed her wand at Malfoy's feet but then decided she would probably end up the worse for giving herself away.

Wormtail's feet twitched nervously.

"We're bound to find her soon, my Lord. She can't hide for much longer."

"For your sake, Wormtail, I hope you are right. The instrumentation, Montague?"

"Holding, my Lord," said another Death Eater out of Hermione's line of sight. "We haven't very long to go now. But the bubble world is creating a distortion in the arc."

"Very well, collapse it. It has served its purpose."

Oh, no, thought Hermione.

"_What?"_

Hermione frowned. There was another voice with them in the room. A frail, raspy, female voice. It took her a moment to realize that it belonged to Dolores Umbridge.

"Do you have something to say, Dolores?" asked Malfoy mockingly.

"You - you - you can't," said the raspy voice again. "All those children - my - _my _children. My project. You promised when - when this was over - it would become permanent. My school for half-bloods and Muggle-borns; they would be removed so they - they couldn't harm us but - but - "

A horrible chorus of laughter went up around the room; Hermione became aware that there were several Death Eaters present.

"Did you seriously believe I would sustain that bubble world when my arc returned?" said Malfoy derisively. "It served a purpose: it assured your loyalty when I needed you to take care of Hogwarts. I also hoped it would persuade Ginny to come to my side. But in either case, its usefulness is at an end. This day will see the final solution to the mudblood problem."

There was a heaving, staggering sound. Hermione sensed that Umbridge was trying to get to her feet and after receiving the brunt of two Cruciatus curses, she wasn't finding it very easy. More Death Eater laughter rang through the air as she stumbled.

"You - you _beast!_" she cried out hoarsely. "You lying brute!"

"You're far too attached to the truth, Dolores."

"You will - you - I will stop you! Whatever it takes, _I will stop you!"_

"I do believe you might try, Dolores, but I'm afraid your own usefulness has come to an end."

"You want to kill me! Go ahead! Strike me down now! _I will ruin all of your horrid plans!"_

"Yes," said Malfoy calmly. "I do believe the arc is close enough that were you to die right now in my chamber, your released life energy would cause irrevocable damage to the pentrax frame. Take her outside and feed her to the dementors."

There was a sound of moving pairs of feet. Umbridge began to cry out and shout curses back at Malfoy but her voice quickly grew distant and incoherent.

Her heart pounding, Hermione used the sound to mask her own quick footsteps back to the stairway. She didn't have the luxury of stopping to feel sorry for Umbridge. Malfoy was going to collapse the school - Colin, Dean, Lavender, Arabella, and all of the rest of them - gone forever. Never remembering who they really were. She didn't want to think about what was going to happen to Harry and Ginny but, right now, they seemed comparatively better off. She didn't how she was going to do it but somehow she had to get back to that school. She had to warn them; she had to save them. She had to do something. She didn't want to think that it might be already too late.

Hermione's legs felt like armor as she reached the top of the staircase. Quickly but cautiously, she poked her head out into the corridor to find a lone Death Eater standing right in front of the opening. Her sudden appearance momentarily surprised him.

"_Stupefy!" _Hermione cried out.

The Death Eater moved for his wand but the curse hit him and he fell to the floor.

"Bole!" cried another voice just around the corner. "Bole! What was that? What's going on?"

Adrenalin overcoming the fatigue in her ankles, Hermione tore off in a sprint back up the corridor that she and Harry had first walked down. She heard footsteps coming quickly behind her and ducked as a hex flew over her head and send rock dust flying through the air. She zigzagged around corners they had crept through before, hoping to keep enough distance between them. She held her wand out in front of her and found one of her X's on the wall. If she could just keep running, then she would reach the room with the vortex. To think -

Hermione grounded to a sudden halt. Another Death Eater was standing right in front of her. He raised his wand.

Without stopping to think, Hermione turned back on her heel and turned the corner again just as another hex hit the wall behind her. She found herself back at the fork in the path. Before she could reach it, the first Death Eater came running straight toward her.

"_Impedimenta!" _she cried out.

The hex missed but the Death Eater was forced to duck. Hermione quickly made her way onto the up-winding passageway, the one they hadn't taken before, and almost immediately regretted it. The path grew steep very quickly and fatigue threatened to cripple her body. She could hear the two Death Eaters both on her tail now; they slowed slightly but they were still running faster than she was. With a final pant, she felt the trail level out and widen into a small alcove.

And into a dead end.

Hermione looked around, searching desperately for something to hide behind, but the room was completely exposed. She finally clutched her wand out in front of her and hoped for the best. She would try to strike her pursuers as soon as they entered the room.

The Death Eaters came panting up. She watched as their masks were briefly framed in the doorway and prepared to strike.

But then the door slammed shut.

"She won't get through that," she heard one of them say. "The Dark Lord will be pleased. He wanted to give her a miserable death."

Hermione scarcely had time to take in the horrible implications of what she had just heard when another door opened, this one right above her, and a sharp sheet of water cascaded down into the sealed-off room. She screamed and ducked out of the way of the forceful spray just in time, but the water continued to fall.

"_Alohomora!" _she cried out, pointing at the other side.

But nothing moved.

They were nearly at the middle of the lake when Nott quickly dived down and Ron had to suddenly duck down himself to follow him. He felt a moment of panic that the gillyweed hadn't yet taken effect but then forced to himself to relax as he started to breathe normally.

The water was dark and murky and Ron was afraid it might be quite deep. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to let Nott go in without the gillyweed after all. What if he passed out before they made it to the entrance? Ron would never find the way in himself, he was sure of that.

Nott pushed ahead quickly and Ron had to struggle to keep pace behind him. He propelled himself forward to bump into the Death Eater just to remind him that he still held the wand. Nott continued to move forward, however, at an even faster pace.

The water only got darker. Soon there was no light at all. Ron conjured a beam from his wand but the light didn't stretch very far. He was relieved when a long, weed-like plant emerged. Perhaps they weren't far from the ground now. But the plant seemed impossibly long. Nott twisted away in another direction and Ron had to change pace to follow again. Ron realized that it would be the easiest thing for the Death Eater to lead him into a trap now. He started to feel very foolish indeed that he'd gone ahead without Dumbledore and Lupin, but now there could be no turning back.

Ron's attention was suddenly drawn by a sort of underwater eddy that seemed to be spiraling downward. Nott had noticed it, too, and was diving fast toward its source. A wave of relief rushed over Ron as the sandy, murky floor of the lake finally came into view, and there was some kind of opening, like a hole in the bottom, just big enough for a person to go through but not much larger. Nott continued to swim toward it.

The water was up to Hermione's neck now. She tried to move up to the surface and float but it wasn't very successful. She had never been any good at swimming. She looked up to see that the ceiling wasn't very far above her at all. She fired her wand up but succeeded only in sending a shower of rock down on her head.

"Think, Hermione. For Merlin's sake, _think_!"

Hermione heard a sudden thump and looked up. She gasped. There was something -

No, it couldn't be.

Nott peered down into the opening. He wasn't sure his lungs could stand much more. But now at least there was hope. His chance had finally come. He moved aside and gestured to Weasel Face.

The horrid little Gryffindor looked at him suspiciously and held out his wand again. He was reluctant to take his eyes off Nott but finally curiosity got the better of him. He glanced down into the opening and right into the disgusting face of his little mudblood wench.

It was all the distraction Nott needed. He had noticed the rock next to the opening when they had first swum down. His lungs at their breaking point, Nott reached down and picked it up. With every last ounce of energy, he slammed it hard into the side of the blood traitor's head. And then again.

Hermione watched in horror as blood flowed over Ron's head and into her alcove. A moment later, her head went under the water. She tried to hold her breath; she tried to move toward Ron, but the force from the water through the opening was still overwhelming. She'd never -

Hermione's thoughts came to an end. Blackness swirled around her. She felt as though two giant hands were closing in on her face to shut out the light. For a moment, it was all she knew.

And then there was nothing at all.


	23. The Room Of Quiet Repose

**Chapter 23**

**The Room of Quiet Repose**

_Ron Weasley was being strangled to death. The spider had two of its pincers around his throat. Another of its long legs stuck like a hot poker into the side of his head. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear Hermione crying out to him. He wondered why she wasn't helping to rescue him. Maybe she was too far away. Maybe she was being eaten herself. The pincers grabbed him ever more tightly and the leg seemed to grind into his head. Ron wasn't sure he could take much more of this. He started to long for the dull, blissful end but then - no, he mustn't die, he couldn't die, he realized. He still had to save -_

Hermione.

"Hermione!"

Ron shouted the name but only bubbles came out of his mouth. Disoriented, he looked around to find himself surrounded by dark, murky water. His memories returned along with a crippling pain in his head. He moved his hand toward his forehead and found that it came away with blood. He touched his hand to the side of his face and found that the gills which had formed just below his ears were getting smaller in time with a restricting tightness in his chest.

What had happened? One moment he'd been looking down at Hermione and the next - Nott? Nott! Ron looked around frantically but his former prisoner was nowhere to be seen. And what about -

Hermione! He had _seen_ Hermione! And she was floating in - oh, goddess.

Ron swung his body around and found that the eddy which had been carrying water beneath the lake had disappeared but that the opening was still ajar. Wincing as another sharp, stabbing pain surged through his head, Ron slowly lowered himself down into it. It was dark and murky but Ron could just make out that he was swimming around inside a small alcove. Three or four times he ploughed into a rocky wall. Each time he grew more and more desperate and pushed off even faster, feeling his lungs continue to restrict. Maybe they had taken her away. Ron began to hope they had. He knew she couldn't have survived for long under -

His head suddenly collided with something soft. It started to move away from him but he reached out and grabbed it closer. It was a person. He pulled the prone face toward him and saw that it was Hermione. Her eyes were closed and she was clearly unconscious. For a moment, he feared she was dead, but then he saw a thin trail of bubbles coming out from her mouth. Balancing his hands around Hermione's ankles, he propelled her up through the opening and out toward the bottom of the lake. He followed right behind her and shoved hard with his feet off the muddy bottom to propel them both upward.

The lake seemed to go on forever. Ron's own lungs felt tighter and tighter and the pain in his head started to become unbearable. He was certain that the gillyweed had completely worn off now. He kept paddling his legs in the water and pushing Hermione upward. It wasn't long before he began to feel that he had weights tied to them. He kept expecting to see light or sun from the surface but the water seemed murkier than ever. With a sinking heart, Ron began to wonder whether they were swimming around in circles, but he continued to push up with his legs, then finally - very suddenly - the water began to clear. Without realizing it until the very last second, Ron felt his head break up over the surface.

His lungs began to gratefully suck in the rich air around them but Ron hardly noticed. Hermione was still unconscious in his arms; her face looked deathly pale and even a little blue. She didn't seem to be breathing anymore. Ron struggled to remember if he knew any anti-drowning charms but his mind was twisted in panicked knots. He knew there must be something he should be doing but a feeling of total helplessness seemed to wash over him. To think he had come all this way and reunite with the love of his life against impossible odds only for her to die at the very moment of their reunion. He couldn't accept it; he just _wouldn't _accept it. Ron finally grabbed Hermione's shoulders and began to shake her very hard.

"Hermione, for Merlin's sake, please, _say something! _You can't die! You _just can't!_"

There was a sudden almighty cough, then another. Water, bile, and a little blood poured out of Hermione's mouth. It didn't seem like she could stop.

"Hermione!" Ron squeaked. "Please don't - "

Hermione drew her head back. The face that had been as white as death a moment before had now gone completely red. Her chest began to rise and fall as she took in several long, deep breaths. Ron was certain he had never heard a sweeter sound in his life. Then her brown eyes opened and looked across at him.

"Hello," she said. "You're an awful mess, you know. It reminds me of someone who once kissed me in the cellar of a sweets shop."

Ron looked at her dumbly for a moment. "H - Hermione," he said. "It's - it's _me_! Don't you - "

But Ron could not say any more. Hermione threw her arms around him and placed her wet mouth against his. Ron felt overcome with a giddy lightheadedness. All of his pain vanished as though soothed with an elixir. Blood pounded through his heart like the beat of a song as Hermione's moist hair became entangled in his face. He felt her arms, warm and alive, wrap tightly around his shoulders and he in turn pulled her toward him like a severed half that had finally found its other. All of the longing, pain, and repressed desire of two bodies that had remembered one another even when their minds had forgotten suddenly seemed to collide. Deep in a desolate lake, high above a den of the blackest evil, and against every formidable obstacle that had been pitted against it, love had survived.

"Oh, look. The lovers reunited at last. How sickly Gryffindor sweet."

Harry felt as though someone had plunged a javelin full of ice down his back. Ginny pulled her arms closer around him, and he clutched protectively onto her in return, though he was certain his body was deathly cold.

Malfoy waved his hand in the air and the Death Eaters moved to the side.

"Away; out of the room," he said distractedly. "Leave me alone with them. You have your other duties."

The four Death Eaters that had Portkeyed Harry and Ginny into their new cell, slightly larger but otherwise exactly the same as the one Ginny had occupied before, looked at Malfoy hesitantly for a moment, but then one by one transported themselves back out of the cell.

"I see you've finally grown into your shoes, Malfoy," said Harry, "or maybe you've grown into yours, Tom. Either way, it's an excellent fit."

Malfoy smiled. "I always knew it would be you here at the end, Potter."

"Is that because you've always known that it would be me who would finish you - _both_ of you, that is?"

Malfoy smiled again. "Only because it has always been you that has stood between me and what I desire - _all_ that I desire." His eyes fixed meaningfully on Ginny.

"I'm not your possession, Malfoy," said Ginny, and Harry desperately hoped that Malfoy could not hear the fearful tremor in her voice. "No matter what you do to Harry or to me, I'll never stand with you."

"Has Lord Voldemort ever possessed anything or anyone, Ginny? Yes, he possessed you once - when you were weak. He has taken other _weak_ minds. But his true servants have always joined him out of their own free will. They have always had the strength to know his power for themselves. You are like that, too, Ginny: I know it. I saw into your mind through that broken diary last year. I saw how you, too, had grown. And then from the Dark Lord's memories, I knew you would become mine. I still know this, even if you do not. You think you will never join me because your love will never take your heart away from Potter. I could kill him now or I could let him live - but it won't make any difference either way once you truly understand. What is love, Ginny? Sentiment. Fantasy. Figments of the mind's own tricks are nothing to power, power which has no weakness or end. I will show you that power, Ginny, just as I promised, but first I must show you the illusions of your mind for what they are."

And then, very suddenly, Malfoy Disapparated.

Harry felt himself start to pant very quickly as though he'd been holding his breath all the time that Malfoy had been with them. Ginny wound her arms even more tightly around him. She looked horribly pale.

"Oh, Harry," she said, in a very cathartic voice. "What's he going to do?"

"I don't know," Harry replied. "Just stay close, all right, whatever happens?"

Harry realized he sounded very silly since Ginny was already pressed against him but she nodded and nuzzled her face in his chest. He wondered if she could hear his fast beating heart and realize how terrified he truly was.

Ron and Hermione sat on the bank of the lake, the warm early afternoon sun slowly drying their clothes. Hermione was touching her soaked but otherwise functional wand against the two deep gashes on Ron's forehead. Ron was looking back at her like a small puppy dog that had just found its bone.

"That should do it." Hermione took her wand back. "How do you feel?"

"I feel liked Nott really killed me and I wound up in heaven."

Hermione smiled. Their arms seemed to find each other very easily again. Ron ran his finger lovingly down the side of her chin.

"You know," he said. "I - I don't think I ever, well, that is," he lowered his head for a moment. "I really did forget you, I suppose - for a while but I couldn't really ever _forget _about you." He looked up into her eyes again. "I knew you were out there, somewhere, even if I didn't know who you were. I - I don't suppose - does that make any sense?"

In response, Hermione dipped Ron's chin toward hers. Their mouths settled slowly into a kiss. Ron tightened his grip and around Hermione and felt her reciprocate with passion. But then she abruptly pushed out of the kiss.

"What - what is it?" asked Ron.

Hermione looked away from Ron's eyes.

"We - we can't, Ron, not now. We can't sit here like this when people are about to die." She looked back up at him. "Harry and Ginny are still Malfoy's prisoners."

"Yeah," said Ron, nodding. "Yeah, you're right."

But he still felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of freezing water over his head.

"And it's worse," Hermione went on. "Malfoy's about to collapse the bubble world we were trapped in."

"Well, that's good, isn't it? I - I mean, you both got out, didn't you?"

"No! Ron, there are others still in there! All of the Muggle-borns! It was only Harry and I who got out. They're trapped in a sort of - a sort of _school_. And they still don't remember who they really are!"

"Well, what are we going to do then?"

"I have to go back." Hermione got to her feet. She ran her fingers through her hair in thought. "There's an opening back under the lake, in these horrible passageways Malfoy's created. It's a kind of vortex. That's how Harry and I got back here." Hermione grimaced. "It's pretty horrible but I suppose it won't kill me."

Ron was tempted to say she was mad to go back under there, but he knew that she wouldn't listen.

"Look, all right, Hermione, but before you go, there's something I have to give you. I - I - " Ron lowered his head. A lump had suddenly formed in his throat. An image flashed in his mind - sitting in the common room with Hermione that night when Harry had gone to get the Fire Whiskey - knowing he had to tell her, that he had to give her the rings, but terrified that she would reject him. He'd thought he could put it off for one more day, but then one more day had never come. And now, when against all probability, he was reunited with Hermione again, Ron was certain that he wasn't going to let the chance pass a second time.

"I was waiting," Ron paused again. Hermione walked up and put a hand on his shoulder. "I was waiting a long time for this - _too_ long. I - I - "

"Ron," said Hermione sympathetically. "I - I know - I mean, I'm sure you were, b - but - Malfoy's already given the order to close the bubble world. We don't have any more time."

Ron looked up to her and nodded. "All right, then, but I'm not letting you out of my sight again."

Hermione smiled. "You're hardly in a fit state to - "

"I don't care!"

Hermione sighed, then pushed Ron playfully on the arm. She smiled at him as though for a moment unsure whether she wanted to be a world-saving heroine or a teenage girl in love.

"All right," she said finally. "But we've got to go - _now_. Wait!" she suddenly caught hold of Ron's arm and put her hand to her mouth. "I almost forgot - our memories!"

"What?"

"Well, when Harry and I came through the vortex - the tunnel, or whatever it was - we got our memories back!"

"Yeah, good!"

"No, it's not good. There must be some kind of shield here from the effect of the charm. Probably because it's Malfoy's base. Of course, Mass Memory Charms!" she said again, half to herself. "I did a report on them for our Charms project fourth year. Flitwick signed the permission for me to get the books from the Restricted Section. It was very forbidden magic. I don't think even _he_ knew..." Her voice trailed off. "That must have been it; not many people did know, and the ones that did either forgot or disappeared."

"But that's not possible. Ginny was mad about trying to find out about the Charms. I know she snuck into the Restricted Section."

"Well, of course Malfoy would have gotten rid of them all!"

"Oh... right, yeah, I suppose he - "

"Anyway - " Hermione stared off into space. "Yes, maybe I could - I think it might - well, I suppose we don't have much other choice." She turned to Ron. "I think I can conjure what we need. Let's get moving. Well, come on then!"

"Right," said Ron. Without wasting another moment, he jogged down to the water's edge and began pulling large chunks of gillyweed out from the plant growing at its edge. "There should be enough here for both of us," he said, by way of explanation. "I don't think I took nearly enough on the way down; it didn't last very long." He took a handful and shoved it almost greedily into his mouth, chewing hard and fast on the stringy plant. Only then did he turn around to see Hermione with her wand aimed down to the surface of the meadow.

"_Aperio_," she said. "_Alohomora._"

A small patch of earth opened up on the shore just in front of Ron's foot, revealing a dark, down-winding staircase. Hermione looked back up at him.

"Please tell me you haven't swallowed any of that."

Dumbledore trained his wand onto the base of the tree. A very thin purple light emitted from its end. He tried hard to think through another skeleton key charm out of the many that littered his memory. Nothing had worked so far.

"Can you see them over at the meadow?" he asked Remus over his shoulder.

There was no response.

"I said - "

Dumbledore felt a hard tap on his shoulder. He looked up. Remus was still standing next to him but he was not alone. They were surrounded by more than a dozen goblins, each with blue fireballs in their hands. Lupin slowly raised his arms but Dumbledore curled up the ends of his mouth in what he hoped was a crotchety smile, the sort that befitted a myocorp.

"Been wantin' to trade, we is; blockin' us from gettin' our boats across, this tree. Wouldn' be able to know the way aroun', would yeh? Help out a couple o' poor myocorps now?"

In response, the goblin standing in front of them reached into his pocket and grabbed a handful of some sort of yellow powder.

"Duck!" cried Dumbledore.

But with a vicious toss, the goblin sprayed the powder all over the two wizards. Dumbledore felt an unpleasant tingling sensation. When he looked up, he found Remus standing next to him in his human form. He had little doubt that he appeared the same.

"I should have guessed you'd be here," the goblin who had thrown the powder croaked bitingly. "How bold is the very architect of the cowardly massacre of our young to come and revisit the very scene of his crime?"

Dumbledore held up a hand. "Listen to me, all of you: for many years now, wizards and goblins have been at peace. Don't ruin this now."

"You have already ruined it, wizard: we trusted you and our trust was betrayed. Do you expect to sit by while you slaughter our kind like cowardly thieves in the night?"

Remus shook his head. "There wasn't any attack. Your memories have been altered. You've been tricked, yes - but not by us. Lord Voldemort is your real enemy."

The goblin let out a noise something like an offended Hippogriff. "Lord Voldemort did not slaughter our children, and he never erased our memories," he declared with certainty. "You insult us doubly with your false claims of innocence, wizard. And our vengeance has been delayed far too long."

The goblin leader looked significantly at the others. A murmur of anger rippled among them. Then, as if as one, they raised the fireballs in their hands.

And stopped.

There was a loud sound, a loud rumbling sound, that was coming from somewhere over the other side of the forested hill. The ground beneath them slowly began to shake.

The afternoon sun fell lazily, almost inevitably, toward the vortex that ended the world at the top of the fabricated hill above St. Brutus's School for Criminally Incurable Girls and Boys. The vortex looked peaceful enough for a moment, in its own chaotic way, and then suddenly, like an offended spirit, it ejected a wizard and a witch out onto the hard ground.

"Ow, bloody hell!" cried Ron, grabbing his ankle from where it had collided with a rock. "Never again will I - " He stopped, his eyes widening suddenly. He looked around quickly and spotted the enormous vortex swirling behind him.

"What - what the bloody devil - where am - "

"Put your hands where I can see them!" cried a voice. "What have you done with Harry?"

Ron looked up to see a bushy-haired witch about his own age get up from the ground and point a wand in his direction. She looked as though she had only just arrived, too. There was something familiar about her but Ron couldn't place -

A sudden rush of sound and light penetrated Ron's head. It wasn't quite pain but it seemed just as unpleasant. A flood of images bombarded his mind and then, suddenly, it was over. He looked up to see Hermione reaching her hand out toward him.

"Are you all right?" she said, helping him up.

Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out the memory ball she had given him. It wasn't shining red anymore and had gone back to looking opaque just like Neville's old Remembrall.

"Yeah, yeah, I think so," he replied.

"Delayed reaction," Hermione explained.

"Well, don't delay it so long next time. You were about to hex my head off! Where are we?" he said, looking around.

Hermione felt a sudden queasy feeling in her stomach as she looked around at the rocky meadow and the forest behind it that led down to the school.

"We're in the bubble world," she replied. "Well, at least it's still here. Mind you, I never thought I'd be coming back."

She tried to repress an unwelcome feeling of disappointment. If Hermione was honest with herself, in her heart of hearts she realized there was a part of her that had hoped that Malfoy had already destroyed this world. She would have grieved for her friends - yes, but she would have realized that there'd been nothing that she could have done differently, that she had tried to save them and tragically failed. She hated this school; she hated it even more now that she knew what it really was. Hermione tried to brush away her negative feelings. She tried to remember Arabella's face, how she would be depending on her, how she couldn't let her die without knowing who she really was.

"Hermione."

"I - I'm sorry. I was just - "

Ron took hold of her shoulders. "I don't know what went on down there but you're here with me now."

"I - I know."

Ron was right. Harry had always been there for her as a friend but there had never been anyone in that school to love or love her. She remembered how she'd marveled that Dean and Lavender could have found themselves together in such a horrible, mirthless prison. She quickly pulled Ron into a hug and held onto him like a life ring in a horrible, hungry sea.

"The school's down there," she said, reluctantly releasing herself and pointing to the path that she and Harry had walked up from the forest. "We'd better go."

"What are we going to do when we get there? I mean - we can't very well go up, introduce ourselves, and tell them that they'd better jump headfirst into some horrible looking cloud because their world's about to end."

Hermione bit her lip. She had, of course, thought of this many times in their long journey down underneath the lake and out to the vortex entrance but she hadn't come up with any good ideas. She herself was an escaped prisoner and Ron was completely unknown. She could try to find the memory ball but her chances seemed very slim indeed. After all, Sirius had spent months doing nothing but still he had failed. There was little reason to think they could succeed with what limited time they had left.

"I don't know," she said finally, "but we've got to try. Come on."

She took hold of Ron's hand and pulled him toward the path. They had almost reached the woods when Ron tugged back.

"What?" She turned back around to face him.

"Look."

Ron pointed out to a spot behind them, just to the right of the vortex, where it slid down to the edge of the trees near the sloping false horizon.

A large black spot had emerged on its edge. Well, a sort of black spot. It was really like nothing at all, like nothing would be if it had a shape and one could look at it. It was like looking at a spot on a T.V. screen that the picture tube no longer reached. And as Hermione watched, it started to grow out and cover more of the vortex. A few seconds later, it had reached the top of one of the trees. A strange buzzing sound echoed out over the meadow. Hermione watched in horror as bits of tree and bark splintered into the air as the spot gradually enveloped it.

She and Ron exchanged a look of fear, then she took hold of his hand and they ran quickly down the path into the forest.

Dumbledore and Lupin had tried to throw their hexes into the battle early on. It wasn't long, however, before they'd decided to find a safe hiding place under a thick-trunked tree and let the two sides get on with it. It was only when the noise around them had stopped completely and nearly all the nearby trees had been trampled into oblivion that the two wizards ventured cautiously back out into the now large clearing at the edge of the lake.

Even then, their first thought was that they would have still been better off staying put. The goblins had vanished completely in fright but now they were face to face with their enormous attackers, and neither was very certain how the new arrivals would take them.

"I suppose they could be friendly enough," whispered Lupin cautiously, staring up at the two giants.

"We don't know how Voldemort may have modified _their _memories," Dumbledore whispered back, almost inaudibly.

"Well, they _did_ attack the goblins," said Lupin nervously. "Perhaps - "

He broke off as he noticed one of the giants looking down at him curiously. It nudged its companion and pointed an ominous finger in their direction. It seemed they had been noticed.

Dumbledore and Lupin remained perfectly still. The last thing they wanted to do was seem like a threat to these powerful creatures. As such, they had no difficulty in hearing the sound of only slightly less thunderous footsteps coming in their direction.

"Professor Dumbledore! Professor Lupin! Oh, don' mind Grawp and Fump; they're 'armless; they know's yeh both friends. Took me a bloody job to find them an' all, mind yeh, and what with me disappearing an all 'em memory fields and goodness knows what, I don't 'ave to tell yeh. Lot o' the other giants got los' on the way, though; reckon it might be a bit o' trouble, but still we found yeh. Now how do we get to this place where Yeh-Know-Who is hidin', eh?"

Dumbledore put his hands together. "Bless you, Hagrid," he said. "Bless you."

Hermione and Ron half-stumbled, half-ran down the pathway toward the school. Behind them, they could hear the sound of trees tumbling down like matchsticks as the bubble world continued to close in on itself. They reached a small clearing and, for the first time, looked straight down at the fenced-in school-prison. They could also see across to the surrounding hills. The mass of black nothing was creeping down around them as well. Judging from the pace at which it moved, Hermione didn't think they had much more than an hour before it reached St. Brutus's. It was obvious that the students and teachers at the school could see it, too: even from a distance, Hermione could see that a large group of them were huddled together out in the courtyard. At least it might make explaining things a little bit easier.

"_That's _the school?" asked Ron.

"Yeah," said Hermione vacantly. She turned her face away from him, feeling a horrible mixture of anger and shame well up inside of her. To think that she had been trapped there for months after months so near to freedom, a prisoner only of the stinging guilt of her supposed crimes and her failure to remember the magic that she otherwise could have used to free herself.

"Looks like a bloody fortress," said Ron. "How are we going to get in there then?"

Hermione clutched onto her wand very tightly. "I don't think their defenses will be much of a match for our magic," she declared stridently. "Come on."

"Oh, well, if you say so, then we can just - "

But Ron had to stop talking and struggle to keep up as Hermione continued to rush hard down the hill. More precious minutes passed before they finally reached the two outer gates of the prison which someone had apparently mended since she and Harry had escaped the night before.

"Hey!" a voice shouted out from the guard tower.

Hermione nonchalantly threw a stunning spell across the fences that hit its target with impressive accuracy.

"How are we going to get over these - "

Without breaking stride, Hermione Disapparated with a pop and then Re-apparated inside the perimeter of the school. She made for the door to the school building and had started to turn the handle when she realized that she was alone. She quickly looked back to see that Ron was still standing on the outside of the two fences.

"Come on!" she cried back.

Ron grimaced.

"You can Apparate, can't you?"

"Well, H - Hermione, _yes_, I mean, I passed the test, but this short-distance thing, you know, I mean I'm sure _part_ of me might make it across but the other part, well - "

Hermione sighed impatiently. "All right then, go around to the front entrance and try to talk some sense into the guards. They must know _something's_ wrong."

"O - OK," said Ron and started to sprint around the outside of the fence.

Hermione took one look after him and then opened the door to enter the school.

Harry and Ginny sat in relative darkness inside the cell. Harry wasn't sure how much time had passed since Malfoy had left - a half an hour, maybe an hour - the anxiousness of not knowing what he had in store for them made the time seem to pass very slowly. He and Ginny had started by looking around the room to find any possible exits but like Ginny in the small cell before him, they had not been successful. After that, they had sat down on the cold ground. Harry had worked on tying a makeshift bandage around Ginny's cut and slightly swollen knee using a torn piece of cloth from the bottom of his trouser leg.

"That should do it," said Harry, tying a gentle but firm knot and checking to make sure that it covered the cut completely. "How does it feel?"

Ginny put on a brave smile. "I'm sure it will get better. It's the best we can do, at any rate, for now. If we get the chance to escape, I'll be ready."

"Well, let it get some rest then."

Ginny sighed. "I don't suppose that will be difficult." She paused. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"What - what happened to you - out there - in that other world? I - I don't really understand any of it. Dumbledore would never tell me and I don't think he really understood either."

Harry hesitated.

"Harry, please," said Ginny. She took hold of his hand. "We've been apart for so long. I - I want to understand what happened to you out there."

Harry nodded. Then he slowly opened his lips and began to tell Ginny the whole painful story from the time he'd first appeared in St. Brutus's to his escape with Hermione.

"Oh, Harry!" she said, taking hold of his shoulders and shaking her head. "I'm so sorry about Sirius!"

"I don't suppose I'll ever see him again," he muttered.

"Maybe you will. There's a lot we don't understand." Ginny smiled through her eyes at him for a moment and played with her finger on his chin.

Harry looked at her thoughtfully, then said:

"So tell me about you. What happened? And what did you do to your face?" He forced a smile.

"It's a J'k'ibir, a kind of magical elfin pet. D - do you like it?" she asked, with a bit of uncertainty. "I can make it come and go."

Harry looked at the mark curiously. He gently brushed back a few stray strands of Ginny's hair and ran his fingers across it.

"It's beautiful," he said, "like you. Ginny, please tell me what happened to you," he added gently.

Ginny frowned. "It was horrible, Harry."

Harry took hold of both her hands. "It won't be horrible when you tell me."

Ginny looked back into his eyes. There was a brief pause, then she slowly nodded and began to tell him everything that had happened since they'd separated. It all seemed very hard for her to say as though she was spewing out chunks of pain trying to recall it.

"I don't regret leaving the village," she finished, "but I never should have tried to contact Ron. That was just selfish. And now look where it got us. Harry," she said, before he could respond. She held onto his hands a little more tightly, as though for support. "I don't know what happened to Ron. I - I - when they got me out, he was surrounded by Death Eaters. I - don't know - " Ginny stopped talking. Tears began to fall down her cheeks. "I - I - I don't th-think it looked very good for him."

There was a long pause, then Harry used his hand to wipe away one of the tears on Ginny's cheek.

"Look," he said. "We've both lost a lot and maybe we'll still lose a lot more, but we've got to keep going on. We still have each other."

Ginny paused for a moment as though considering his words and then nodded.

"Hermione might have gotten away," Harry went on. "Maybe she's planning something. Ginny, I know this is difficult but I need you to think carefully: is there anything Dumbledore told you, anything at all, that might help us?"

Ginny shook her head, and her face went suddenly red with anger. "Dumbledore knew nothing," she said. "There was something Sirius said, though. Dumbledore and Lupin didn't want him to tell me; they were always trying to protect me from everything. But he did anyway."

Harry smiled ironically. "That was Sirius."

Ginny took hold of his forearm. "Harry, he said if - if someone were to die inside that pentrax thing - inside that cavern, I suppose, then it would ruin all of Malfoy's plans. The energy from the soul going into the other world would push the other world away, or something; I don't really understand it but Sirius seemed to think that was the way - he said we had to kill one of the Death Eaters inside the cavern near the time when the arc was to return. But not Malfoy - his soul is stuck or something."

Harry nodded. "Trapped in his body by Dumbledore's curse last year."

"Right, so - " Ginny's voice trailed off and she sighed again. "I don't suppose it's much help, though. They've never actually taught us the Killing Curse. I suppose we could push one of them off the edge of that platform thing, but I don't think we're likely to get the chance. I don't suppose we'll ever get out of this cell."

Ginny sighed heavily and buried her hands in her elbows.

"Hey," said Harry, cupping her face up to his. "Don't give up. We've always made it out before."

Ginny looked up at him and smiled weakly. "You've made it out of a lot of things, that's for sure."

"And so have you, Ginny."

"I know, Harry, b - but - " she sighed again. "This time feels different somehow, I - oh, Harry, I don't suppose I should mind admitting to you that I'm terrified."

"No, you shouldn't."

Ginny smiled again in spite of herself. "I wonder how I was ever sorted into Gryffindor in the first place."

"How can you say that? Think of how brave Ginny Weasley was to leave that house-elf village; to face Voldemort in that room last year; to follow me on a fool mission to rescue Sirius in the Department of Mysteries."

"Absolutely terrified all three times. Only I was very good at hiding it."

"Then you even more belong in Gryffindor."

Ginny smiled but then her face fell again. "Harry, there's something else I haven't told you a - about Malfoy." Ginny paused, almost as if she hoped Harry would say something but he just continued to look at her, obviously expecting she would go on talking. "H - he has some sort of - infatuation with me. It's not anything like real love; I don't think he's capable of feeling anything like that but he's obsessed about me, Harry. He thinks that when he's blown a hole in the gateway, I'll be impressed with him or - or something."

Harry frowned. "Yeah, I saw the way he acted just now, but when did this start?"

"I - I don't know. I suppose it's because he has Tom's memories trapped inside him."

Harry frowned again. "But I don't understand. Why would that - what would that have done?"

"Made him more obsessed, I suppose, I don't know."

But Ginny looked a little furtive as she said it. Harry leaned closer to her.

"Look, it doesn't matter what it is; just forget about it, OK? _I'm _here and I'm not going to let him hurt you."

Ginny smiled at Harry and ran her fingers across his back. "Oh, Harry," she said. "I love you so much. It's just horrible, the way he _looks _at me, I - "

There was a sudden sound of rushing air. What little light there had been in the cell quickly disappeared.

"What's happening?" asked Ginny nervously.

Harry put his arms around Ginny and pulled her toward him. "I - I don't know," he said. "Just keep calm, all right?"

Without releasing his grip on Ginny, Harry quickly looked around the cell. The rushing air suddenly stopped. It was almost as if something had just been -

Harry froze. There it was again: that horrible, wheezing, rattling sound. And this time all of Harry's memories told him exactly what it was that had entered the cell with them. Another breath and then two at the same time, possibly even a third. There were dementors here, dementors here with them in this small room.

"Harry!" said Ginny again.

Harry held onto her very tightly. "Don't look at them. Don't think about them. Try to concentrate on something happy. Anything."

But Harry did not find that a particularly easy task himself. Neither of them had wands and he knew that even the happiest thought in the world would not be enough by itself to hold off even one of the dementors. So this was it; this was what Malfoy had been planning for them. This was how he intended to finish them off.

Malfoy sat on the small bed in the cell that had once belonged to Ginny. The voice inside his head told him that he needed to stop and think very carefully; that he needed to think well _through_ what he was doing before he put the delicate final stages of his crucial plan together. Reflection had never been something Malfoy had considered extremely important; his father had always taught him that plotting and scheming was something best done on one's feet. But the voice had been very persistent. Malfoy knew that the part of him that had brought him down here was not the part of him that belonged to Draco Malfoy. But what was he meant to reflect on? What did the voice want this time? Surely, their plans -

"So you've arrived at last," said a cool, precise voice. "You have a stubborn will, Draco, just like your father, but all minds can be bent, and yours is in great need of bending."

Malfoy looked up. A tall wizard about his own age, perhaps a little younger, with dark black hair stood in front of him. He was dressed in Slytherin robes; and a silver Prefect badge's was pinned to his lapel, a little like Malfoy's own.

Malfoy reached quickly for his wand and aimed it at the boy.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "How did you get in here? _Consisto!_"

The red light from Malfoy's wand went clear through the boy and made a small, harmless dent in the rock behind him.

The boy smiled but his eyes flashed in anger and derision.

"You cannot hex me, Draco; I am not really here."

"_Who are you?"_

"Come now, Draco; you are not nearly as mindless as one might infer from your parentage. Look at me closely and tell me you do not know who I am."

Malfoy squinted at the boy. There _was _something familiar about him. He could swear he had seen him in a picture or - or _no_, it wasn't a picture; it was a face that seemed to have been planted in his mind, not from his own memories, planted by -

Malfoy's eyes opened suddenly in horror.

"Yes, Draco," said Tom Riddle. "You understand correctly. I thought it might be easier this way to talk; and I have something very much on my mind."

"_Rictusempra!"_

The guard had scarcely started to reach for his club when Hermione's hex caught his shoulder; he spun backward and landed in a painful heap on the floor. Two other guards then emerged from the corridor that led down toward the kitchen flanked closely by Sister Jones.

"Miss Granger?" she said incredulously. "What is - "

Hermione aimed her wand in their direction.

"_Magnum Procella!"_

There was a rushing sound and an invisible wave of energy spread out from Hermione's wand. It hit Sister Jones and the two guards simultaneously like an enormous iron fist and hurtled them back against the wall behind them. Hermione did not stop to look at their condition but continued to march quickly down the corridor that would eventually lead her to Snape's office, her face fixed in a mask of determination and anger.

As she continued, Hermione found, almost to her disappointment, that the classrooms on either side of her were empty. A quick look through the windows of the main cafeteria revealed it to be devoid of people as well. Obviously, everyone was out on the courtyard now, watching as the mass of nothingness moved closer to their school. Hermione briefly wondered what hellish explanation the nuns would make up for it.

The classrooms vanished and Hermione turned the corner into the main corridor that led toward the office. It wasn't a very comforting thought but the only thing she could think of doing was finding and confronting Snape - at the point of her wand if necessary. He alone had the authority to lead everyone out of this school. But to where? Judging from its progress down the other hills, it was likely that the nothingness had already submerged the meadow where she and Ron had entered. Had they just returned to be consumed like the others? Hermione shook her head. Now was not the time for doubts. She had to believe that -

A sudden sound of many rushing footsteps came up from behind her. She turned around just as four guards emerged from around the other corner of the hallway through which she had just walked. She prepared her wand to strike when a door immediately to her left suddenly opened and another guard came out and seized her arm, twisting it behind her. Hermione screamed in pain and dropped her wand to the floor. Two of the on-rushing guards quickened their pace toward her and one took hold of her other arm and restrained it with a vice-like grip.

Hermione struggled against her captors but the other guards moved in and formed a tight circle around her. She was still trying to free herself when another, more familiar figure moved out of the door on her left, a door that Hermione only now realized belonged to the office of the Deputy Headmistress.

"Miss Granger," said Sister Barnes icily. "How nice of you to return to us. We've been expecting you ever since you emerged on our security cameras. You seem to have gotten the better of several of our guards, not to mention Sister Jones, but we managed quite nicely at this end to prepare in advance for your arrival."

Sister Barnes reached down to the floor and picked up Hermione's wand. She looked at it curiously for a moment and then snapped it hard on her knee into two pieces.

"I think we've had enough sorcery for one day, don't you, Miss Granger?" She smiled cruelly. "Now, I believe you were on your way to see the Headmaster, am I right? Not to worry, dear; we shan't hold you up much longer. He's most anxious to see you indeed."

Harry could see the dementors more clearly now: there were four of them. After moving around the room for a few moments, they had settled into the sides of a square around the space where he and Ginny were sitting. Very slowly, they began to close the gap toward them.

Harry tried to think of a way out of their predicament but all he could manage to do was hold Ginny ever closer as though doing so would somehow shield her from the nightmares advancing toward them. The side of her cheek slowly rubbed against his and he found that her skin had turned very cold. He grabbed hold of her shoulders in alarm and turned her to look at him.

"Ginny?" he said. "Ginny! Stay with me!"

Ginny's face had gone deathly pale and her eyes were glazed over. She was looking in his direction but Harry sensed that her mind was far away in a dementor-induced horror. He kept shaking her until finally he saw recognition in her eyes.

"Oh, Harry," she said. A loud sob emerged from her throat. "I feel so cold. I feel so _horrible._"

"Don't give into it, Ginny. It's only in your mind! We've got to - "

Harry instinctively looked around the cell again for some means of escape but then immediately regretted it. His eyes locked with one of the dementors who let out a loud, heaving rattle, like a morbid victory cry. He felt his mind start to spin. Horrible images flooded his head. A door blew open. A woman screamed.

_Stand aside, you silly girl, stand aside now!_

_Not Harry, please not Harry. Not Harry. Harry._

"Harry! Harry!"

Harry looked properly and saw that Ginny was calling out his name. She touched the side of his face. Her hand was like ice.

"Harry, don't you leave _me_ now," she said, shuddering as though cold. "C-c-oncentrate. Have you noticed? The dementors have s-s-stopped. They're standing still."

Slightly more cautiously this time, Harry looked around and saw that, indeed, the four dementors had stopped walking toward them. But they had not retreated either. It was as though they were planning to suck away every last ounce of joy inside them as slowly as possible.

"Harry!" Ginny said again in a very small voice, her tears continuing to fall. "It's - it's so horrible - all the voices, all the images - i - i - in my mind. I want t-t-to m-make them s-s-s-stop but I-I can't!"

_A horrible sickening laughter rose loudly in Harry's head. There was a flash of green light, a horrible hiss -_

Harry clutched onto Ginny's shoulders again and willed himself to concentrate on her. Her teeth were starting to chatter now and her face looked very blue. Her hands were full of sweat and still icy cold.

"Ginny, just focus on me!" he said. "Whatever you're thinking; whatever you're feeling; it's not r-r-real!"

"B-b-but it _is, _Harry! I-i-i-t-t-t _was_, I-I mean. The memories: i - i - it-t really happened!"

"Well, m-m-maybe if you told m-me what y-you're facing; maybe if w-w-we faced it together, th-then."

Harry felt his own skin start to prickle and soon his teeth began to chatter like Ginny's. The voices started up in his head again but he clutched onto Ginny's shoulders in a tight, almost vice-like grip to force himself to concentrate on her alone.

But Ginny shook her head vigorously, her long damp hair brushing across Harry's face.

"H-H-Harry, n-n-n-no, please, I-I can't! It's just t-t-too horrible. I never told a-a-anyone what really happened, Harry, i-i-i-i-inn-n the Ch-Ch-Chamber. In the Chamber of Secrets," she managed. "I-I-I didn't tell Dumbledore; I didn't t-t-tell my parents. I d-d-didn't tell _a-anyone_!"

Harry started for a moment. What was she talking about? They all knew what happened in the Chamber, didn't they? _He_ knew; he had been there. Tom Riddle had come out of the diary and left Ginny cold and lifeless. His energy had come from her; Dumbledore had known that and surely her parents -

Harry decided quickly that it didn't matter. He had to break Ginny out of this somehow. He ran his fingers quickly up and down her shoulders in the hope that it might make her feel warmer but it didn't seem to be any use. It was exactly the way she had felt in that Chamber, he suddenly realized, just as if the nightmare was happening all over again.

_Ginny - don't be dead - please don't be dead._

_I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. But there isn't much life left in her. She put too much into the diary, into me._

"Ginny!" Harry forced the horrible memories back. "Ginny! Please - please t-t-tell - tell me. You can tell me!"

Ginny didn't respond. Tears continued to run down her face. She stared straight into Harry's eye and for the briefest of moments, Harry swore he could see a little bit of color return to her face.

"I-I-I didn't lose consciousness r-r-right as T-T-Tom came ou-ou-out-t-t," she said finally. "Almost but n-n-not quite-te. He - he became solid - a - and I - I was terrified-d-d. Then h-he came t-t-toward me, Harry. H-h-he told me that n-n- that now he was wh-whole again he c-could th-thank me for all-all I had-d-d helped him. He s-s-said I was so-so pretty; so w-weak and pr-pretty, those were - were his words - ds. I-I-I can't-t forget th-th-them. I-I-I w-w-w-want t-to but I c-c-can't. Then he - Harry, he - he came at me. His hands were all over me. I-I tried to stop h-h-him but I-I was t-t-t-too weak - and I don't know - I don't know - after that, I - I really _lost_ - lost - I don't know what happened-d n-n-next. I - I - Harry, I swear! I - I don't know! I SWEAR I DON"T KNOW!"

"Ginny, GINNY!" Harry cried, shaking her again. "It doesn't matter! Wh-whatever happened down there, it doesn't matter any more. I _saved_ you."

"Oh, H-Harry, b-b-but he-he's going to d-d-d-do it a-again, I-I-I know i-it!"

"N-no, no, he's not!" Harry felt his own blood starting to warm. "He's _not!_ I stopped him before and I'm - I'm going - I'm going - I'M GOING TO STOP HIM AGAIN!" Harry screamed.

Then in a quieter voice he added:

"Think of that, Ginny. Please - please think of that."

Then Harry hugged Ginny tightly and willed whatever warmth he could muster to flow into her body. And he forced himself to concentrate on the very same hope he had offered to her, praying to every god and goddess in the wizard pantheon that there was some way that it could come true.

"B - but how are you here?" Malfoy wondered. "How can you be standing here? You're supposed to be - I thought you were - "

"Inside your head?" replied Riddle. "I am. You created this image of me out of your mind - or rather _I _created it. If anyone else walked into this room, they would find you talking to yourself."

"But - but you're _real_; I can _see _you!"

"You see only what your mind tells you to see. And I'd advise you not to forget it."

Malfoy looked down at his own body as if to make sure that it was real. It was only through that simple act that he realized that his mind and thoughts were his own now. The powerful voice inside his head, the thing that had become so entangled with him, had now manifested all of itself as the apparition of Tom Riddle. There was something a little empty about just being himself again, but after a moment Malfoy began to feel an enormous sense of relief. What Ginny had said had been true after all: this hadn't been all that he'd bargained for. The Dark Lord had started off just giving him knowledge but more and more, he'd been sucking away at his will until Malfoy had begun to forget what was him and what was Voldemort. But now he was free from all that - at least for the time being. Perhaps he could reason with the Dark Lord, bargain with him, agree to help only on the condition that Voldemort not stifle and control so much of Malfoy's own self.

"I am not pleased, Draco," Riddle went on. "You have failed to live up to my expectations. Even before I possessed you, I believed you to be unswervingly dedicated to our cause. Perhaps it was your father who deceived me as to your loyalties. I knew far too little of you for myself, as I now see."

"My Lord, I have followed each of your plans very carefully." Malfoy lowered his head. "And we are very near to the completion of our destiny: you know that. What more could - "

"What more could I ask?" finished Riddle, his face twisting into a snarl. "You say we are near completion; perhaps you are right. But if you are not careful, you will also find that we are near to disaster. You told the Weasley girl far too much about our plans; and Potter overheard it, too. They are a threat."

"They will not be allowed to leave their cell until the time of our becoming has already passed. By then, Ginny's loyalty will be assured."

But Riddle shook his head. "She will never join you, Draco. Don't you understand? She is stubborn and she will not easily break. I have seen this in her. Those with strong minds do not make good allies."

Malfoy shook his head. "Once the dementors have finished with them, Weasley's affection for Potter will be at an end. She will understand that her love for him is nothing but a fantasy, a feeling, and the dementors can take all of those feelings away. Once her mind is broken, she will know the truth: there is nothing but power and Potter has no power that can save her!"

"But you are wrong. The moment the dementors leave them, she will come to wish for Potter again."

"Then you believe in love? I thought you were the one who showed me the truth about feeling?"

"I believe it is important not to underestimate the strengths of one's enemies, Draco, and you have very much underestimated both Potter and Weasley. You could have disposed of them both long ago but you did not. Instead, your affection for this girl has delayed and threatens to endanger our plans at the very moment of their fruition!"

"_My _affection?" It was Malfoy's turn to snarl. "_You_ were the one who poisoned my mind with her memories! Were you thinking of your great destiny when you moved on her in the Chamber? And she wasn't the only one, was she? What a sick boy you were, Tom Riddle. And I thought I had abused my prefect privileges."

Anger rose in Riddle's cheeks. He clenched his fists very tightly.

"She was a plaything to me," he said derisively. "They were _all _playthings. I used them as it amused me. I never allowed them to linger in my mind as you have. As soon as I retrieved the broken diary and possessed the girl a second time, I knew that she had grown and become much stronger. I only persisted with her because I had no other link to Potter. If you allow her to continue to enter your feelings, Draco, then _she_ will manipulate _you_. She already has."

Malfoy shook his head. "You're wrong."

"Am I? Then prove it to me. Order the dementors to deliver the kiss. Get rid of Potter and Weasley once and for all and I shall never doubt you again."

Malfoy went cold. No, not Ginny, he - he couldn't. Why couldn't Riddle see? They were so close to the time of their destiny now. All he would have to do was keep her captive a little while longer; then she would be only a strength to their cause.

"N - no," he finally said. "I won't do it."

"_What?"_

"I said I won't do it! And you cannot force me! You need _me, not _the other way around! _I'm_ the one who holds your soul this side of existence. If you cross me, I will end your plans here and now!"

There was a significant pause in the conversation. Riddle looked down at Malfoy with a touch of something almost like pity.

"You don't know how much it pains me, Draco," he said, quite calmly, "this ungratefulness. I have used my power to give you what so many have longed so fruitlessly for: a body of youth and a mind with the wisdom of the ages. I do not need you, Draco: I _needed _you once, yes, but no longer. I have fed on your mind and grown stronger. I only preserved your soul because I hoped you could be with me to share in our destiny. Now I see that it will not be possible. Such a pity - for _you_."

Tom Riddle closed his right hand in a fist but then he was gone from the room. Suddenly, it was Draco Malfoy's own fist that was clenched, but it was not he who had clenched it. Lord Voldemort stared down at the arm almost curiously, the arm of the boy whose soul he had just extinguished forever, whose body now fully belonged to him.

So he had dealt with Draco Malfoy. Now it was time to finish off Potter and Weasley - once and for all.

The voices of his screaming mother and the loud sickening laughter of Lord Voldemort rang through Harry's head again and again like a broken record. He wanted the images to stop but he tried to tell himself they would not get worse: he wouldn't pass out this time; he needed to stay here. He needed to stay with Ginny. Her body was cold in his grip and she wasn't talking, and he felt as though his own insides had turned to ice.

Every happy feeling seemed to have been ripped from Harry's mind until he had almost managed to convince himself that he wouldn't feel joy again, that he should just give in, that there was no point in fighting and nothing to fight for. But he continued to sit and hold onto Ginny until finally, with another sound of rushing air, the dementors retreated from the room.

"Ginny! Ginny!" said Harry suddenly as the horrible voices in his head began to slowly ebb away. "Can you hear me? Are you all right?"

Ginny looked back at Harry, dazed. She still looked white and in shock. More tears rolled down her cheeks but then after a moment, she seemed to recognize him.

"Harry!" she said. "Oh, Harry, wh - what's happened? Where did the dementors go?"

"I - I don't know." Harry slowly got to his feet, then leaned on Ginny for support as he stumbled. "I - I think they've - "

There were several loud popping sounds. Harry and Ginny turned around to see Malfoy, Wormtail, and three other Death Eaters appear in the cell.

"I see you managed to survive the Dementors," said Malfoy. "Unfortunate but not irredeemable."

Harry looked at Malfoy. There was something - something about the way he looked - the way he was standing, the way he talked - that was _different_ somehow, but then also oddly familiar. It was as though -

"Tom," said Ginny, in a small, still weakened voice. "It's just you now, isn't it?"

The face of Draco Malfoy turned to her, the thin icy smile of the Dark Lord on his lips. "Seize them," he said. "We don't want them to - "

But before the Death Eaters could move any closer toward them, Harry leapt toward Voldemort and pushed him hard to the ground. His hands closed tightly around the Dark Lord's throat and he began to squeeze as hard as he could.

"You _monster!" _he hissed. "YOU MONSTER!" he cried again hoarsely. "I'm going to kill you for what you did! I'M GOING TO _KILL YOU!"_

It took the combined effort of all three Death Eaters to pull Harry off. Ginny tried to stop them but Wormtail slapped her savagely across the face with his silver hand. She cried out and fell to the floor. Harry struggled to reach her but the Death Eaters held onto him tightly and he was still far too weak to resist them.

"That's much better," said Voldemort, coughing only slightly. "I think we'll dispense with the dementors. Potter has developed quite a way with them, haven't you, Harry?" He turned to Wormtail. "I am needed upstairs; I have been away too long as it is. You will Portkey Potter and Weasley to separate cells, then execute them both," he said coldly. "See to it personally. I do not want any mistakes."

"Yes, my Lord."

Harry struggled harder against his captors but to no avail. All he could do was watch as Wormtail moved toward him, a Portkey in his hand, and a wild, triumphant expression in his cold, colorless eyes.

Hermione sat down on her chair and sighed heavily. Here she was, after everything that had happened, after all their many escapes, and with the world about to collapse all around them, sitting once again in the Room of Quiet Repose. She thought back to the time she had waited for her parents, accused of witchcraft. She remembered how Sirius had come for her and Harry here in the guise of Sister Barnes and returned to them part of their memories. But now Sirius was gone. And what had they achieved? Harry had been captured, she didn't know where Ron was, and now she herself had walked straight into an ambush she should have seen coming.

Hermione looked around the impeccably neat room, the brass handled door that led out into the other corridor and Snape's office; the paintings of the former headmasters on the wall - all made up, of course; the fireplace with its menacing gargoyle-headed brass pokers; and then the altar - the altar where one was supposed to pray to St. Brutus for deliverance from whatever horrible punishment the headmaster would enter the room to deliver. And then there was the statue of St. Brutus himself hanging from the wall, the only thing in the whole room that was never impeccably ordered but always managed to rest at an angle that was slightly...

Askew.

Hermione gasped suddenly.

"No, it _couldn't _be," she said out loud to herself. "He couldn't have just - "

Hermione did not finish the sentence. She quickly got up and walked across to the statue. She had reached out her hand for it when the door opened and Snape re-entered with Sister Barnes.

"Leave us, Sister," he said icily.

Sister Barnes gave Hermione one of her typically cruel smiles, then walked out of the door.

She had no sooner left the room when Snape rushed toward Hermione, pushed her hard against the far wall, and grabbed his hands around her throat.

"What is going on?" he hissed. "You know, Miss Granger. I know you do. What is that thing that is coming down from the mountains? Is it Satan's wrath? Is it the Armageddon? _Tell me, sorceress! Tell me now!"_

Hermione forced herself to repress a gag as she caught of whiff of Snape's rancid breath.

"If - you'll - stop - choking - me," she managed.

But Snape did not release his grip.

"You can talk," he said savagely. "I can still understand you. You will explain exactly what is happening here and then you will return to your Satan and tell him that he is _not - wanted - HERE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"_

"That's - what - I'm - trying - to - do," replied Hermione, coughing and trying to nudge herself away from Snape's grip. "I - want - to - help - you!"

But Snape shook his head vigorously. "_You are a whore of the devil_!" he declared fervently, his voice beginning to tremble. "And the devil never wishes anything but ill to those who serve the Lord! _But I will _squeeze _the truth from you, sorceress, if it's the last thing I do on this earth!"_

Hermione let out a stifled, chortling scream as Snape tightened his grip around her neck.

"Please!" she cried out. "Pl - please Prof - Professor Snape."

And then Snape suddenly, and very unexpectedly, began to release the chokehold slightly. His eyes filled with sudden surprise and his hands began to shake.

"Wh - wh - what did you call me? _What did you call me, sorceress?"_

"I called you Professor Snape," replied Hermione, feeling a bit more emboldened, but still trying to shake herself away. "B - because you _are!_ You're not the headmaster of St. Brutus's. None of this is real! You're Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You're under the effects of a very powerful enchantment; we all are! But _you_ can break out of it; I _know _you can! _You're a wizard!"_

With every one of Hermione's words, Snape's mouth began to drop further in shock.

"_No!" _he hissed. "_You lie, sorceress! I - I am not a - I'm not a - "_

Snape finally released his grip on Hermione and looked down at his hands as though he didn't recognize them. They had begun to shake very hard. Hermione could see that part of him was fighting against the hold of the Memory Charm but she wasn't going to wait to see if he would win. She quickly moved away from the wall and took three large steps across the small room to unhook the statue of St. Brutus from the other side.

At this, Snape seemed to come alive and notice her again.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. "Give that to me!"

He lunged toward Hermione, but with the skill of an on-rushing netball player, she faked quickly to her left, then dived to the right around him. With both hands, she flung the statue hard against the barred window on the north side of the room. The ceramic St. Brutus shattered against the bars; then, before Hermione's eyes, it turned briefly into a glowing red memory ball before that, too, exploded in a shower of glass. A bright red light shot out from the ball. Hermione screamed and covered her eyes with her hands. She heard Snape let out a much louder yelp and fall to the ground. A moment later, screams erupted from all throughout the school.

Hermione ran quickly over to where Snape was lying on the floor. He no longer seemed to be trembling, though he was still breathing quite hard. He looked at her for a moment.

"Miss Granger," he said finally.

"_Professor _Snape?"

There was another pause.

"Remarkable," Snape finally said, his voice regaining some of the cool detachment Hermione associated with her former Potions Master. "A very powerful magic indeed. The Dark Lord's work. I tried to resist it; I managed to have flashes of my former self but it was very strong. The thing coming down from the hills; I take it the Dark Lord has decided to close this little world?"

Hermione managed a nod.

"Then we've very little time to lose."

Snape held out his hand for Hermione to pull him up, but she did not respond.

"Your hand, please, Miss Granger?" said Snape again, impatiently. "Or has even your predictably superficial understanding of wizard etiquette been forgotten in this Muggle school?"

Hermione took one last look down at Snape, then moved her foot to the soft part of his stomach and pressed down hard.

"And you are certain that the Weasley boy is dead? He seems to have developed a talent for eluding you."

Nott bowed his head before Voldemort. "I was losing air very fast, my Lord, and I was forced to retreat, but I do not think anyone could have survived those blows, and I could see from the marks on his neck he was already starting to lose the effects of the gillyweed."

"I see. We shall presume that he is dead, but all of you should remain vigilant." He looked around at his assembled Death Eaters. "All Death Eaters not involved in essential functions relating to the instrumentation will continue to keep close watch. Bole, you will return to the alcove room to ensure that Granger did not survive."

One of the masked Death Eaters bowed his head and left the mezzanine area.

Voldemort turned to Nott. "You have done well, Nott; when the time of our becoming has arrived, you will have a new skin and an invincible body."

Nott bowed again. "May that moment come soon, my Lord. I am humbled to be here at your side at the dawning of our destiny."

"Your gratitude is noted, Nott. As the most faithful of my remaining followers, you and Wormtail will have the privilege of remaining in the chamber as our destiny is completed. If anything happens to me, it will be your responsibility to conjure the nexus. And what have you to report, Wormtail? I trust you have done as I instructed?"

Wormtail rubbed his hands together feverishly. "Potter and the Weasley girl have been executed, my Lord, exactly as you commanded."

A thin smile formed on Voldemort's lips.

"So much for prophecy," he said.

He held out his arms like a priest bestowing a blessing on his followers.

"My friends, today has seen the end of all those who would oppose us, all those who did not have the foresight to share in our vision. But I promise you this is only the beginning: within the hour, we will complete that for which we have worked so long and hard. We will finally cheat death itself."

And then the cold, high laughter of Harry Potter's nightmares rang like a bell through the unnatural cathedral of Lord Voldemort's dreams.


	24. Out Of The Fire

**Chapter 24**

**Out of the Fire**

Rage coursed through Hermione's veins; rage that seemed so unnatural, so unlike her, but that now completely consumed her nonetheless. It was the part of her this school had created, the part of her this monster had unleashed.

"Well, well, Miss Granger," said Snape, smiling thinly. "I see you've finally managed to drop the pretense of being the respectful, obedient teacher's lapdog. Personally, I prefer you better this way."

"If I had a wand in my hand right now, I'd hex you to pieces; _do you know that?" _

"You know, I believe you would." Snape's eyes grew ominously larger. "If only Professor Dumbledore could see you now."

"You didn't leave this school because you didn't want to!" Hermione cried hoarsely. "You _enjoyed _whipping Dean, _didn't you? _It must be a bit of crushing come down knowing you can only take away house points now. Merlin, this school must have been like a fantasy come true for you!"

"I assure you it was anything but. Now _if _you wouldn't mind, Miss - "

Snape let out a yelp as Hermione pushed her foot into his stomach again.

"You don't think I didn't notice how cruel you were to Harry all those years! To all of us! Just because of - of a _stupid_, childish grudge against his father! You thought you could get away with it, didn't you? Just like you think you'll get away with all of the abuse you've inflicted in this school! _Well, you're wrong! _I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm of age; _I'm a witch! _And if we ever make it out of here alive, I'm going to make life very difficult for you _and neither Dumbledore nor anyone else is going to be able to stop me!"_

There was a sound of a loud explosion outside and the sharp crack of an electrical fizzle. Neither Hermione nor Snape needed anyone to tell them that the black nothingness had reached the fenced perimeter of the school.

"I daresay he won't, Miss Granger," said Snape icily. "Especially if you manage to kill us both while the world collapses around us. But by all means, take - your - time. After all, revenge is very sweet today."

Hermione took her foot away.

"Get up!" she ordered. "Get yourself up!"

Snape looked up at Hermione for a moment, then hoisted himself to his feet with his hands. He calmly adjusted his robes, then suddenly took hold of the collar of Hermione's sweatshirt and pulled her toward him.

"Let go of me!"

"Not until I've made one thing very clear, Miss Granger. I could care less what you think of me but if we're going to get ourselves and everyone else out of this school in one piece, you are going to listen to me and do _exactly_ as I tell you, _is - that - understood?"_

"Maybe," said Hermione defiantly.

Snape twisted the fabric of her sweatshirt more tightly in his fist.

"Yes," said Hermione, very reluctantly.

"Good."

Snape shoved Hermione back away from him and gave her a narrow smile. "And for what it's worth, Miss Granger, you may fancy yourself a grown-up witch but you know nothing of what I do or why I do it."

"Whose fault is that then?" Hermione shot back. "Maybe if you'd even once _told _us - "

"And why ever would I want to do that, Miss Granger?"

Without waiting for a response, Snape moved toward the outer door and opened it. Hermione paused for a moment then followed.

"Ow! Let me go!" cried Ron. "Look, I know large brains don't always come with large bodies but surely you must have noticed the great big black thing that just swallowed up your guard tower!"

"Shut up!" yelled one of the guards. The two others continued to tie his hand behind his back and push him forward to the school. Ron could see out across a path to the front entrance. A courtyard was off to one side. A number of teachers and students were gathered out in a sort of playing area, huddled together. Many of the students were crying, especially the younger ones, and all of them were pointing to the thick nothingness that had completely surrounded the school. The sun had been blotted out now and the sky was an inky black. The school lights had come on briefly but then they, too, had fizzled when the black thing had hit the outer fence and caused all the eckel-tronics to burn out. Now there were only a few lights coming from several small torches the Muggle nuns were carrying in their hands.

"We're taking you to Headmaster Snape," said one of the guards.

"Oh - never thought I'd be so glad to see him."

"You won't when you meet him," said one of them nastily.

"I daresay you're right," replied Ron, sighing.

They marched him up toward the entrance of the school. A severe-looking nun with piercing grey eyes and a tight frown came out to meet them. Ron thought she looked a bit like the evil twin sister of Professor McGonagall.

"We found him prowling around the entrance, Sister Barnes," said one of the guards. "He was carrying this." He held up Ron's wand.

Sister Barnes looked like a fisherman who had just felt a tug on his pole.

"So! _Another_ sorcerer."

"Yeah, that's right," said Ron. "Pity your grounds have vanished. I imagine it would have been quite good fun to burn me at the stake."

"This one has Satan's arrogance, too. Bring him into Headmaster Snape. We'll get to the bottom of this - "

"That won't be necessary, Sister," said a familiar voice. "I am already here."

Ron turned to see Snape emerge creepily from behind the darkened entrance to the school. Hermione was behind him.

"Ron!" she cried out.

"Hermione!"

Ron tried to move toward her but the guards restrained him.

"Let him go," said Snape, with great reluctance. He spotted the wand in the hand of the guard. "I see that unlike your witless girlfriend you have managed to keep your wand intact - such as it is."

Before anyone else could say anything, Snape snatched the wand away.

"Headmaster," said Sister Barnes. "Faced with such evil, I do believe his Holiness would not disprove if we tortured the truth from these - _aaahh!_"

Sister Barnes put her hands to her mouth and stepped back in shock as a bright light shot out from the end of Ron's wand and blanketed the courtyard in light.

"_Sonorus_," said Snape, ignoring her. "This is Headmaster Snape. All teachers and students will gather quickly in the outer courtyard and form a single line. Oh, and all the guards, I suppose. All Hogwarts students will report directly to me."

There were further murmurs of confusion and panic among the students and teachers, but under Snape's impatient stare, they slowly managed to form themselves into a line. Ron could see Filch doing a lot of the ordering work and watched as he shoved three protesting nuns into their correct place. He'd forgotten the old Hogwarts caretaker was even here.

"H - H - Headmaster," said Sister Barnes, her eyes still filled with alarm. "I - I - I don't understand. What - what are you - "

Snape turned reluctantly to look at Sister Barnes as one might regard a persistent mosquito.

"I suggest you follow the queue, if you don't want to get yourself killed, that is, _Sister_. It makes no difference to me."

Sister Barnes put another horrified hand over her mouth but started to walk toward the line.

"How are you planning to get us out then?" asked Ron.

Snape ignored him. Ron watched as the other Muggle-born students approached.

"Dean!" he cried out. "Are you all right?"

Ron watched as Dean walked toward them. His eyes widened only briefly as he saw he and Lavender holding onto each other for support. Lavender looked as though she'd been crying and Dean seemed stunned.

"Ron," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you, mate."

"Hermione!" a little girl's voice cried out.

"Arabella!"

Hermione quickly grabbed her young friend into a hug.

"Oh, Hermione!" she said sobbing. "None of it was true. I - I never murdered my father - h - he's still alive and he isn't a drunk. It was all - "

She buried her face in Hermione's sleeve, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I know, Arabella. I know," she said.

The chatter of reunion stopped as Snape cleared his throat. He drew his wand through the air and conjured several everlasting candles which hovered in front of them.

"You will spread out through the line and use these to help the Muggles and yourselves leave the school," he said dispassionately. "In answer to your question, Mr. Weasley, if you look closely, you'll notice that a small window of the vortex still remains."

Ron and Hermione quickly looked over at the nothingness that was sweeping over what had once been the school's playing fields. Ron watched as it noisily carved up a sort of cement court with two baskets hanging from either end, but in the middle, there was a narrow strip where the cement remained intact. It seemed to move forward with the rest of the nothingness. Squinting, Ron could just make out the fuzzy, multi-colored grayness, but it was much narrower than the wide expanse that had stretched out before them up at the meadow. Ron reckoned it was only the width of about four people across and about as much high. It was also very difficult to distinguish the grey from the colorless background.

"What is on the other side?" asked Snape.

"It's a sort of cave-like thing down in Voldemort's base," replied Hermione. "It's underground, underneath a lake."

"Is there a way out?"

"There's a passageway leading out under the lake and up into a meadow."

"Death Eaters?"

"Could be."

"Very well. Finch-Fetchley, Creevey, Creevey, and Summers, you will go to the head of the line with me. We will take care of any Death Eaters and prepare a safe passageway for the others. Brown and Thomas, once we are in the passageway, you will keep guard and make sure that the Muggles can proceed safely to the meadow. Weasley and Granger, you'll be responsible for staying behind to make sure that the last of the Muggles get out of this school."

"Hang on a minute!" said Ron. "We should go first; we're the ones who know the way out!"

"Surely even someone of your limited articulatory abilities will not find it impossible to describe the route in detail to me, Mr. Weasley. If not you, then perhaps Miss Granger. She has on many occasions proved herself capable of considerable loquacity." He looked significantly at Hermione.

"But - "

"This is not a discussion, Mr. Weasley. You will do as I say. And try not to get yourself killed. Your mother is a difficult enough woman as it is."

Harry was sitting on the floor in the corner of his solitary cell when he heard the familiar popping sound. Wormtail now stood at the other end, his wand in hand and a greedy look in his eyes. Harry had tried to steel himself to strike at the moment his would-be executioner entered the room but now that the time had come, he found himself barely able to stand.

Even as Wormtail leveled his wand at Harry, he thought little about himself. He was going to kill Ginny first; that was what he had said. That was what he had told the Death Eaters when he had separated her from him. Had he now already finished that task? Was Ginny even now lying dead in another cell, killed by the same cold-blooded murderer who had betrayed his parents?

Harry forced himself to his feet, fighting an overwhelming surge of nausea as he did so. Just as he had faced certain death those years ago when a re-awakened Voldemort had challenged him to an impossible duel, Harry was certain that he wasn't going to give Wormtail the satisfaction of watching him grovel and suffer. He was going to face death standing up - just like his father and mother had, just like Sirius had and, though he tried not to think about it, just like he was sure that Ginny might have done as well.

Wormtail watched as Harry got to his feet but did nothing.

"Come on, then!" said Harry. "You're not afraid to kill me, are you? Just one little curse and it will all be over. Won't your boss be a bit impatient if you stay down here too long and miss the big moment upstairs?"

But Wormtail continued to stare at Harry unmoving. So he planned to toy with him then. To draw out the agony. Well, Harry wasn't going to let him. In fact, this might be the very -

Harry's thoughts came to a quick end as Wormtail flipped the wand around in his hand, walked straight up to Harry, and offered him the handle end.

Harry looked back at Wormtail, slightly stunned, but not so stunned that he failed to take the wand away from him.

"You once saved my life," said Wormtail finally, in a thick, grudging voice. "I owed you a wizard debt. That debt is now repaid."

Harry continued to stare at Wormtail in disbelief. This wasn't possible. This didn't - this didn't make sense.

"What are you after?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing. "You didn't think much about your wizard debt when you tied me up to that gravestone and left me to Voldemort or when you tried to curse me in the original room!"

Wormtail screwed up his eyes into an expression of rat-like defiance but the corners of his mouth began to twitch. He moved his hands together and began to fidget uncomfortably.

"He - he - he's going to kill us all!" he moaned suddenly. "He's mad! I - I - I know about the prophecy. Y - you're the only one who can stop him!" His voice descended to a pitiful whine. "You've got to stop him!"

"It took you long enough to figure it out."

"I never wanted to serve him!" Wormtail declared fervently, his eyes suddenly widening. "I - I didn't have any choice. I never wanted to be a Death Eater; he _forced_ me to betray your parents! And then everyone thought I was dead; what could I do but go back to him? But now - "

"Now you realize he's going to kill you, anyway," Harry finished. "And you want to keep me alive to finish him off."

Wormtail nodded and began to whimper softly again.

But far from taking any mercy on his parents' executioner, Harry shoved Wormtail back against the wall of the cell and poked the wand into the side of his neck.

"You want me to stop Voldemort?" he hissed. "You know what? I don't care about stopping Voldemort. I don't care about any prophecy and I don't care about saving the world! I only care about one thing - and that's Ginny! So if you've killed her, then you're going to die here and now very slowly. _Do you understand?"_

Wormtail let out a soft moan.

Harry fought off another wave of nausea. Goddess, no, he thought; please, no; let him have spared her; please let him have spared her!

"What did you do with Ginny?" he demanded, poking the wand further into Wormtail's neck.

"I - I - I didn't kill her!" Wormtail managed. "I gave her a Portkey and she left. I - I thought it might be - might be important to secure - secure," he began to sob, "your c - c - cooperation."

"Very good, Peter," said Harry, but he didn't take the wand away. "Now where did she go? _Tell me where she went!"_

Wormtail shook his head.

"The Portkey I gave her took her back to one of the upward-leading staircases. There she could have escaped out to the surface, and to safety."

But Wormtail still looked hesitant.

"_But?" _prompted Harry.

"I - I - I didn't want her to stay around!" Wormtail protested. "If anyone sees her, the Dark Lord will know I've betrayed him. B - but she - she said - she said she was going upstairs - t-to the cavern. She said was going to stop the Dark Lord's p - p - plans herself!"

"_What?"_

Harry looked searchingly into Wormtail's eyes. He knew he still might be lying, but a sickening instinct told him that he was not. He finally moved the wand away from Wormtail's throat.

"All right, first I'm going to look for Ginny. Once I'm certain she's safe, I'll do my best with your boss."

Wormtail began to sob pathetically. He placed his hand on Harry's arm.

"Wonderful boy!" he moaned. "Brilliant boy! You - "

"Get off!" shouted Harry, shaking his arm away. "You have a Portkey for me as well?"

Wormtail reached into his cloak and pulled out another piece of fading grey cloth.

"This will take you into the corridors that face onto the cavern," he explained. "He still has Death Eaters on guard. You'll have to be careful."

"And you? Won't Voldemort sense you've betrayed him?"

Wormtail reached into his pocket and pulled out another piece of cloth and with it, another wand. His whimpering faded and his face took on a malevolent smile. Harry wondered, as he had many times before in his encounters with Wormtail, whether his cowering had all been an act.

"I will take care of myself," Wormtail replied. "Just do as I ask and spare me. After that, I do not care what happens to you or your _girlfriend._ I'm far better at Occlumency than he knows. I wouldn't have made it this far otherwise."

I wonder, thought Harry, but he nodded.

"All right," he said. "Then tell Voldemort you killed us both. That way he won't be on the lookout."

Wormtail nodded. "Agreed. Good luck, Harry Potter."

Harry pressed on the cloth and felt the tugging at his hip. The cell disappeared around him.

"Are you all right?" whispered Dean as they ushered the Muggles out through the corridor under the lake.

"Not really," Lavender replied, clutching hold of her stomach. "That vortex was awful."

Dean put his hand on her shoulder. "Not as awful as being chewed into pieces. You saw what that other thing was doing."

"Do you think these things will really hold up?" asked Lavender, looking warily at the conjured wand in her hand, one of several Snape had made for them.

"He said they had a few spells in them," said Dean, trying to sound encouraging. "And we haven't had to use one yet." He looked down at the pile of unconscious Death Eaters that spread out into the down-winding corridor at the juncture where they were keeping guard. They had found them like that as soon as they'd come out of the vortex. Dean guessed it had been mostly Snape's work.

"Oh, Dean, I feel so confused! I really believed - I don't know what to think now." Lavender clutched her stomach again.

Dean looked around behind him. Most of the Muggles seemed to have made it out of the vortex now. He gestured to two of the nuns to make their way down the corridor. They looked down at the stunned Death Eaters, crossed themselves quickly, and followed on.

"Look," he said. "Let's move out of here. Nearly all of them are out now and Ron and Hermione will be watching for the ones at the end."

Lavender nodded and allowed Dean to steer her away up the passageway. They followed the Muggles to another level path that went underneath the lake. The path ended at the bottom of a steep staircase and they slowly began to climb. A light at the top grew ever brighter until finally they emerged out of a kind of trapdoor into the still bright early evening sunlight. Once their eyes had adjusted, they found that most of what had once been the students and staff of St. Brutus's School for Criminally Incurable Girls and Boys were milling about chaotically in a meadow on the edge of a lake.

"Are you all right?" asked Dean again, as Lavender looked a little dizzy. "We're safe here; it's going to be OK now."

"Thomas, Brown," said a curt voice.

Dean looked up to see Snape walking toward them.

"Most of the Muggles are up," said Dean, looking a little coolly at Snape.

"Good. Potter and Granger?"

"They're still on the other side," said Lavender.

"Very well," said Snape laconically. "You will both remain here and help to take care of the Muggles. There may still be some Death Eater activity in the area; I advise caution." He took Ron's wand out of his cloak.

"What are you going to do then?"

"That's none of your concern, Mr. Thomas. If I have not returned with the hour, you are to take charge of leading the Muggles around the lake and out over the hill on the south side." Snape gestured with his wand. "One other thing: under no circumstances is anyone to follow me - _especially_ Weasley and Granger. When they arrive, they are to remain here. Is that understood?"

Dean and Lavender both nodded.

Without acknowledging them further, Snape turned around and disappeared back down the passageway into the ground.

As soon as he was gone, Dean looked back to Lavender.

"Come on," he said. "Let's find somewhere for you to sit down and rest."

"I'm alright," Lavender insisted. "I just need..." Her voice trailed off and she frowned.

"What is it?" asked Dean.

Lavender's blue eyes looked back into his.

"You remember her now, don't you?"

"Remember who?"

"You _know_ who."

Dean looked back at Lavender. He did know who. But he bit his lip and said nothing.

Hermione watched as the nothingness tore through the prison building that had once been their school. She coughed as large chunks of plaster and concrete filled the air around them. A hissing noise broke out and water from a burst pipe underneath the school began to seep out into what was left of the courtyard. The area around them was now barely larger than the size of the old netball court but the vortex was still holding up. All the children had left the school now. Only the nuns and she and Ron remained.

"I reckon ol' Snape wanted to do us in," said Ron, coughing himself.

Hermione shook her head. "He just wanted to see us suffer for as long as possible, that's all. Though I don't suppose he would have minded."

"M - Miss Granger!" said a frightened voice. "I - I don't - I've never actually traveled by t - t - television before!"

"You'll be fine, Sister Owens," said Hermione. "Please trust us. Now come on."

Sister Owens was the last one in the line - or so Hermione thought. She motioned to Ron to stand in front of her and then she brought up the rear. The blackness was closing in all around them now. Still, she was certain they could make it, just so long as they -

"Hattie!" said Sister Owens suddenly. "Hattie, quickly!"

Hermione turned around to see that Sister Barnes remained standing in the courtyard, slightly to the side of the line. Her arms were folded in front of her chest and her eyes held an expression of defiance.

"I am not going, Constance," she declared.

Oh, bloody hell, thought Hermione.

Ron stopped and turned around but Hermione shoved him in the back.

"Get in!" she cried.

The circle of nothingness around them continued to close. The air was thick with the remains of the concrete courtyard now and their clothes were all covered with a layer of fine white dust. Hermione guessed their universe only stretched about three meters in any direction now. Worse, as she looked up, she could see that the opening into the vortex was closing fast. It was barely the height of a person.

"Hattie!" Sister Owens cried out again. "Hattie, please! You'll be killed!"

"Do you not see with your eyes what is happening, Constance?" came the strident reply. "This is the work of Satan! He _wants _to drive us from this school, from our work, from our re-education of these unfortunate delinquents. His agents are everywhere: _this girl_, the boy - even Headmaster Snape was his servant. But we must stay; we must fight the forces of darkness!"

"Hattie, no!" Sister Owens remonstrated over Hermione's shoulder as she tried to push her toward the rapidly shrinking opening. "We _have_ been deceived, yes, but Miss Granger is trying to help us! She's risked her life, can't you see that? This isn't a real school, after all; we don't belong here! Search your memories, Hattie!"

"I belong wherever the Lord takes me!" Sister Barnes retorted shrilly. "And He has commanded me to remain here! He does not want me to follow this sorceress!"

"But how do you know - "

Hermione had heard enough. She forcibly shoved Sister Owens' head down and pushed her through the remaining opening, then followed quickly behind her. At the very last second, just before she had passed completely into the swirling grayness, she felt something spray across her shoulders and face. Already inside , she looked back into the closing world that had imprisoned her for so long and immediately wished she hadn't. The universe was not even large enough for one person to fit inside now but one person still tried to remain there. Sister Barnes continued to stand defiantly in the courtyard as the blackness closed around her. Her skin and blood blew away into the vortex until finally only a skeleton stood in its place, its teeth clenched in precisely the manner of the deputy Headmistress of St. Brutus's School. Somewhere in front of her, Hermione could still hear Sister Owens screaming. She held tightly onto the nun as the vortex began to buffet them around and closed her eyes tightly. They were leaving.

Snape ducked quickly into an alcove at the side as the party passed. They all looked a complete mess, especially Granger. She was covered from head to toe with what appeared to be dried blood. Both she and Weasley were comforting one of the nuns. It was obvious to Snape that one of them hadn't quite made it. A Muggle, no doubt. No matter. He had far more important things to worry about now.

He waited until their voices had completely subsided and the corridor grew eerily quiet, then he made his way past the now sealed-off entrance to the vortex and down into the bowels of the Dark Lord's underground base. He walked slowly forward with practiced stealth.

Snape had suspected the Dark Lord's plans as soon as his memories had returned. And now that he had seen this base, he knew exactly where he was and what it was he was doing. It had been Voldemort's most secret project even in the years of the First War when he had found out about the secret work of Grindewald and the other Dark Wizards before him. It was they who had calculated that the gateway needed to be placed precisely here, at the bottom of this lake, in order to penetrate into the world beyond. It was a plan Snape himself had once believed in and dreamed of but as his knowledge of the Dark Arts had matured and his disenchantment with Voldemort and the Death Eaters had grown, Snape had come to dismiss the plans as a deranged fantasy. He had never reported it to the Order even long after he had fully committed himself as their spy. As far as he'd been concerned, the lunacy had hardly been worth mentioning.

But Snape now realized that he had been wrong. Very wrong. Voldemort had already shown what he was capable of with the bubble world, a world into which he had banished Snape by effortlessly conjuring the nexus triangle. And Snape now had little doubt what his final plans were. And considering his decision to collapse the bubble world and the absence of Death Eaters guarding the perimeter of his complex, Snape also guessed that the Dark Lord's plans were very close to fruition.

Snape didn't know where Dumbledore and the rest of the Order were and, at this point, he didn't very much care. He knew how to stop Voldemort and he was going to do it - alone, if necessary. He had made Granger and Weasley stay behind because he knew they were going to try and follow him. And that was the last thing Snape wanted.

Snape moved to another wall as the sound of footsteps grew nearer. A masked Death Eater was approaching.

"Bole?" said the Death Eater cautiously. "Bole, where are you? The Dark Lord is expecting your report on the Granger girl. Where have you - "

Snape stepped out into the corridor, his wand raised. The Death Eater gasped and went for his wand.

"Pr - Pr - Professor Snape?" he declared. "But you - "

"Montague, isn't it?" said Snape icily. "I recognize your voice. Quite a promising career if I remember correctly. A pity you made the wrong choice. _Avada Kedavra!"_

Montague tried to shield himself from the curse but it was too late. A green light emerged from the end of Snape's wand. He was dead well before he had hit the ground.

Yes, Snape decided. He certainly didn't need the likes of Gryffindors at his side. The time for compassion and softness had passed. It seemed that what he'd told Granger back at the school was true, however: revenge was very sweet today indeed.

After pressing onto Wormtail's Portkey, Harry had found himself in another set of passageways. The corridor in which he'd found himself standing led in two directions and he chose the one that led deeper and toward a very faint light. After several more minutes of walking through ever-brighter passageways, he found himself in another alcove looking out into the cavern. Poking his head cautiously through the small opening, he found that he was two sides of the pentagon away from the mezzanine control area and diagonally opposite where he and Hermione had first looked into the cavern. He was also much lower down: the mezzanine area was slightly above him. He could just about make out Voldemort standing over the controls. Wormtail and one other Death Eater with a horrible emaciated face stood next to him.

Harry could see why Wormtail had picked this particular spot. The strange tangled structure that stretched out through the heart of the cavern obstructed its view from anyone standing on the mezzanine. Peering further out into the cavern, Harry also noticed that part of the material stretched and curled very close to the alcove where he was standing. With great caution, Harry reached out a finger toward the substance and then withdrew it, deciding it was better not to take the chance. The material didn't come from this world; there was no telling what the magical consequences could be of coming into contact with it. Still, one strand of the substance led in a convoluted path to a point just under Malfoy's control area. Clearly, Wormtail had meant for him to take that path.

Still, that would have to wait. His first priority was finding -

"Harry!"

It was only a whisper but Harry would know anywhere that it was Ginny's voice he was hearing. He wasn't at all sure where it was coming from though. He looked back and forth down the corridor in which he was standing but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Down here!" said Ginny's voice again.

Harry cautiously looked back into the cavern. No, she couldn't be... she wouldn't...

"Straight down!" said the voice.

Harry walked right to the edge and looked down. There was Ginny, about ten feet below him, standing on a narrow ledge of the other worldly substance which plunged down below her to a very significant depth.

"Ginny!" he whispered back. "What are you doing down there?"

"Stay there!" she said. "I'm coming up."

"No, don't move! Don't try to climb on this stuff; I'm coming down to you!"

Ginny cupped her hands to her mouth to talk up to Harry again but she stopped as Harry cautiously walked out of the alcove. Taking care to keep part of the structure between him and the control area so that Voldemort couldn't see him, he carefully tried standing on the structure. The material was hard and it seemed it could support him; there didn't appear to be any adverse magical effect from standing on it, but he could feel that it was very brittle and some parts of it were sturdier than others. Climbing around on it seemed as about as safe as moving about on the thin upper branches of a tree that stretched up to an impossible height.

Harry nervously maneuvered himself down toward the ledge where Ginny was standing, placing his hands and feet over jagged bits of the substance that jutted out from its main thicker branch-like parts. He took care to try each one before he stepped on it and one broke off and fell far down into the depths below. Harry winced as it made a clattering noise all the way down, but looking cautiously around from his hiding place, it seemed that Voldemort and the other Death Eaters were still focused on their controls.

"Careful!" said Ginny as he got closer.

Finally, Harry reached the ledge where Ginny was standing and she helped him down into a safe position facing her. He instantly pulled her into a tight hug and let out an immense sigh of relief.

"I never thought I'd see you alive again," he said.

"Oh, Harry, neither did I. I - I couldn't believe he just let us go like that. I - I - "

She released from the hug and looked up at him.

"He said he wanted you to kill Voldemort."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. He told me he was getting you out safe, though, but you don't look very safe here."

"Well, I - I think he might have been. I came out at a passageway just in front of the staircase going up. I think it might have led right out of here but I - I walked away from it and followed the light down to here."

Ginny bit her lip nervously and Harry sensed she knew he wasn't going to like what she had just told him. And she was right.

"Why, Ginny?" he asked. Without waiting for her response, he took hold of Ginny's shoulders. "Look, never mind why, you're safe now. I'll help you climb up to the alcove just above us and then you can find your way out or you can just stay there until all this is over."

But Ginny shook her head.

"Harry, I can't. Don't you understand? Tom's plan is nearly complete: he's going to complete the magic and punch a hole through the gateway. Can't you feel it?"

Ginny gestured at Harry's feet. Now that she had drawn his attention to it, he could feel a low rumbling vibration coming up through the structure.

"The pentrax frame is gathering energy. It won't be very long now!"

"You don't know that, Ginny. Look - "

"But, Harry, I do!"

Harry looked at her quizzically. "How?" he asked.

Ginny looked back at him a little strangely. She absently fingered something around her neck. "I don't know, Harry," she said. "I - I honestly don't know but it's true; you've got to believe me!"

Harry put a hand on her shoulder again.

"Alright, I suppose we haven't got much longer but _I'm_ going to stop him, OK?" He looked closely into Ginny's eyes with what he hoped was a very convincing expression. "I'm going to stop Voldemort and then we can both get out of here and leave all this behind us."

"But Harry, you can't do it all on your own! Think about this carefully: we don't know what happened to Hermione or any of the others. As far as we know, you and I are the only ones who can stop this. You're going to kill Voldemort and I'm going to destroy the gateway."

"_What? _How?"

"I'm going to climb up to the top and try every good curse I can think of."

Harry glanced upward to the tattered veil hanging from the stone archway so many stories above them.

"No!" he said instinctively. "No, it's too dangerous. There must be another way!"

"There _isn't_ any other way, Harry! I've thought it all through. Neither of us knows how to do a Killing Curse so Sirius's idea is out, but we could still destroy the gateway. Remember what Lupin told us: it was built by wizards so it must follow that it can be destroyed by wizards. Lupin even said it would have been far better off if it had been. And then Tom will have no means to break into the other world!"

"Alright, then. _I'll_ destroy the gateway."

But Ginny shook her head yet again.

"No, Harry!" she said. "Remember the prophecy: _you're_ the only one who can destroy Voldemort. He's still weak, Harry: he doesn't have all of his powers back yet. Dumbledore said so! And then _I'll_ destroy the gateway."

"I don't care about any prophecies!" said Harry, feeling his frustration mounting.

"Alright, Harry, then just think it through clearly: I _certainly_ don't have the magical skills to deal with Tom, but I can get up to that gateway. I've always been good at climbing; there are trees all over the Bur - "

"This isn't a tree! A - and this isn't - Ginny, please, I - I just want you to be safe. If anything happened to you, I - I - I just - I don't know if I could - "

Ginny touched her hand to the side of his face. "Harry, neither of us is going to be safe if the world comes to an end. We've got to do this. We've got to stop this. And then we can be with each other. We can live the rest of our lives together, if that's what you want."

Harry ran his fingers through Ginny's hair and looked closely into her soft brown eyes. "Of course it's what I want," he said tenderly. "And I'm going to do it. I'm going to stop him. For you. For us."

Ginny looked back at him. She cusped her hand to the side of his face as tears pooled in her eyes. For a moment, he thought she was finally going to give in but then with a stubborn sniff, she shook her head again. Beside himself, Harry tried to think of another way to persuade her to keep herself out of harm's way but before he could do so, Ginny herself spoke.

"Harry, you don't know what it felt like that night down in the Chamber when I woke up and found you standing over me. You saved my life, Harry. Without you, I wouldn't be standing here right now."

"And I'd save it again and again!" said Harry fervently. "I - "

But Ginny put a soft finger to his lips to silence him.

"H-H-Harry," she said, sobbing. "I kn-know, I know you would. But saving my life again isn't going to save _me_." She pointed to her heart. "The real _me_, the me that has never quite made it back out of the Chamber of Secrets."

"I - I don't understand."

Ginny looked down for a moment. It seemed she couldn't quite meet his eyes.

"Harry, you - you know what he did to me. I told you. I was like his puppet, his doll. I couldn't stop him from making me kill the roosters, setting the basilisk on the mudbloods, and - and finally I - I - I couldn't even stop him from doing what he wanted to my own body. And even after you stopped him, Harry, I - I still felt so empty. I felt so defeated. I - I couldn't - and then - and then when he came back, I - I knew I had to do anything I could to stop him. That was why I had to go with you to try and rescue Sirius. That was why I had to stop him last year in the original room and - and that's why I have to stop him now. I - I have to show him that my mind and my body belong to me and that - and that everything he did to me will come back to hurt him. Even if you could stop him by yourself, Harry, I - I still won't be anything but a - but a hopeless, stupid, little girl who always has to be rescued by others. And I don't want to be that, Harry. I - I can't live like that anymore." She finally looked up. "Do - do you understand?"

Harry looked back down at her. He still wanted to think of some way to stop her, some way to keep her safe. But in the end, he did understand. He understood perfectly. And though it seemed like the hardest thing he had ever done, Harry bowed his head and nodded.

Ginny reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Harry," she said. "I knew you would understand. I love you and we'll be together - forever - I promise."

Ginny moved away from Harry and placed her foot back onto the jagged edge of the spiraling structure. Harry watched, feeling very helpless, as she slowly began to climb.


	25. Hero, God, And Sacrifices

**Chapter 25**

**Hero, God, and Sacrifice**

The wizard who had once been Tom Marvolo Riddle looked down at the instruments carefully. His exceptional memory enabled him to recall exactly what Grindelwald had written about maintaining the balance of magical energy inside the pentrax frame and measuring the precise moment to conjure the nexus. Based on what he had calculated, and assuming that Wormtail and Nott were maintaining the instruments properly on their side, Voldemort estimated that there were at most forty minutes remaining until the arc returned. Once that time arrived, Voldemort would have approximately four minutes to conjure the nexus and connect it to the gateway before the arc moved away again. Voldemort looked down at the palm of Draco Malfoy to find that it was glistening with sweat. Perhaps the unconscious, animal parts of the boy's mind were still active. But no that couldn't be, Voldemort reminded himself. His soul had been utterly destroyed. It was Voldemort's own fear that was seeping through his palms even though he knew he could not afford to be afraid. He took one last look at the instruments and then stepped back. He had to calm himself. Too much -

A sudden noise issued from the hallway outside. It would have been imperceptible to the hearing of most ordinary wizards, but the Dark Lord was not an ordinary wizard; moreover, he knew from long experience that he had heard an abortive cry for help, a cry that had been quickly stifled. And with that cry, there was a presence, a presence that was very practiced in concealing its mind from the still not completely recovered Legilimency of Lord Voldemort, but whose fleeting eagerness had been revealed in a moment of struggle.

"Montague!" Voldemort cried out, startling both Wormtail and Nott. "Montague! Is that you? Report!"

There was only silence.

"Avery! Avery, are you there? What is - "

Voldemort stopped. The door to the mezzanine from the passageway outside slowly opened and a single masked Death Eater entered the control area.

"I am here, my Lord," it said. "Bole has not returned. Montague went to look for him."

"I gave orders that at least two Death Eaters were to remain on guard outside this entrance at all times! Has your thick mind not comprehended the importance of securing this control area above all else?"

The Death Eater bowed. "My apologies, Lord. It was Montague who insisted - "

"I don't want to hear any more excuses. Get him back here at once!"

"As you wish, my Lord."

Voldemort turned his back on the Death Eater and returned to the controls. The moment he had done so, however, he could sense the feeling of eagerness again here with him. Right in this -

"_Avada Ke - "_

"_Expelliarmus!" _Voldemort cried out, swinging quickly back around.

The Death Eater's outstretched wand flew out of his hand and down into the chasm below.

Wormtail and Nott looked quickly up from their instruments and stared at the Death Eater.

"Don't stand there!" barked Voldemort. "Seize him!"

Wormtail and Nott marched quickly over to the traitor. He tried to dodge them and succeeded momentarily, but they managed to grab hold of his elbows. They then took out their wands and shoved them hard into his side, but they had to struggle to hold on as their captive continued to resist.

"Hold him still!"

Voldemort slowly approached his prisoner, his steps measured and patient, but a look of hunger in his eyes. Finally, he reached up toward his face. The traitor flinched and resisted but Voldemort still managed to pull off his mask.

"Well, well, how nice of you to drop in and visit us, _Severus_."

Snape spat into Voldemort's face, then yelped as Nott and Wormtail twisted his arms painfully behind his back.

Voldemort slowly, almost nonchalantly wiped the spittle away from his face. "What have you done with my Death Eaters, Severus? _Tell me, what have you done with them?"_

Snape smiled maliciously. "I think you'll find them rotting in hell, and you can join them."

Voldemort looked closely at Snape for another moment. He felt his once loyal servant open his mind to him. The images of his Death Eaters brutally falling one by one at Snape's hand filled his head. And before he had finished, Snape made sure that he knew exactly how pleasure he'd felt in killing them.

"I would let you stay to watch what you pretended to long for all these years, Severus," said Voldemort finally, forcing his voice to remain calm, "but then I don't really think you deserve it, do you? I regret that I'm much too close to the completion of our plans to leave this chamber, but my _loyal _servants here will take care of you. Take care to kill him at a distance and seal him up once you've finished," he said to Wormtail and Nott. "We have only a few minutes until the chamber becomes sensitive to soul loss, even from the outside."

Greedy smiles formed on the faces of Wormtail and Nott. They grabbed Snape and pulled him out into the passageway. The final servant of Albus Dumbledore continued to struggle against them but to no avail.

Ron managed to scourgify Hermione who, in turn, managed to leave Sister Owens in the care of her fellow nuns. He didn't need to ask what had happened. It had been pretty obvious.

Hermione herself, however, seemed to have spent little time grieving for whomever it was that hadn't made it back. She was quickly engaged in a business-like conversation with Dean and Lavender.

"He was very insistent you stayed here," Dean explained. "He mentioned you specifically."

"I bet he did," said Hermione coolly. "How long did he want us to wait for him?"

"An hour," Dean replied, "and then we were to get the Muggles out of here."

"And how long has it been so far?"

"I dunno. About a half an hour maybe."

"Too long," said Hermione decisively. She looked across to see that the evening sun had now dipped down below the hill on the far side of the lake. "Voldemort said that his plans would be finished before sun had gone down. And then later on he said we were only hours away. We've got to act!"

"Hermione, he told you to stay here!" protested Lavender. "You can't just - "

Hermione rounded on her. "I wasn't asking _you_ to come along!" she snapped. "But he needs help, whether he thinks he does or not." She looked across at Ron. "Are you coming?"

Ron nodded. "I'm still not letting you out of my sight."

Hermione put her hand on his shoulder and briefly smiled, then motioned her head toward the opening back into the chamber.

"But you haven't even got proper wands!" Lavender protested again.

"They're good enough for a few spells!" Hermione retorted. "We haven't any choice!"

She turned around with Ron to walk down the winding steps again but the two Gryffindors found their path blocked by several of the nuns. Sister Lewis seemed to have taken charge and she stepped forward.

"Just a minute, Miss Granger!" she said icily. "I don't understand what is going on here or what has happened to us. But Headmaster Snape is still in charge and he ordered you to stay put. You are still a student at St. Brutus's School and I am still a teacher. I feel duty bound to carry out his instructions while he is absent!"

Sister Lewis's words were followed by a series of sanctimonious nods from the other nuns.

Hermione looked across at the nuns for a moment, then took out her wand and held it toward them. She was closely followed by Ron. The self-satisfied expressions on the faces of the nuns began to fade slightly but they continued to hold their ground.

"Do you know what this is?" Hermione asked bitingly, indicating her wand.

"It is - it is - it is some kind of - of _thing_," said Sister Lewis nervously. "It is - is," she swallowed. "It is a _wand_ and you - " she looked up at Hermione as though unable to restrain herself any longer. "You - _you are a witch!_ _You are _both _witches!"_ she declared, looking back and forth between Hermione and Ron, her eyes bulging.

"Well, actually, I'm - " Ron began, but he was quickly interrupted by Hermione.

"That's right!" she declared. "The bushy hair should have given it away long ago. And my favorite pastime is turning nuns into big fat toads, not that it requires much effort. So I suggest you move out of my way because I am just in the mood!"

"Yeah!" added Ron, trying his best to look as mean as possible.

The nuns let out a collective gasp of fright. Hermione continued to walk past them, her wand still out, and an expression on her face that left little doubt she would carry through on her threat. The nuns at the back of the group had to fight to keep their balance as the ones in front nearly stepped on them in their rush to retreat. They could only watch as Hermione and Ron disappeared through the trap door and down the winding staircase back into Voldemort's base.

Harry flattened himself against a thick artery of the structure, his chest pounding hard. Snape. So Hermione must have gotten away; she must have gotten them out of the school. But now. For a moment, Harry had felt very hopeful. He had never been so glad to see the loathsome Potions Master his whole life. Snape would save them, he had believed; _he_ would defeat the Dark Lord and stop his plans. Then they would all leave together and Ginny could stop climbing; she would be safe and all this would be over. But mere minutes later, as Harry had watched the whole horrible exchange play out, he knew that it wasn't to be.

Still, it sounded like Snape had gotten rid of the remaining Death Eaters and now Wormtail and Nott had left the control area, albeit temporarily. It was just Voldemort on his own now.

Just Voldemort, Harry sighed to himself. He still had no idea how he was going to stop the Dark Lord. The prophecy might as well have been a death warrant for him. He watched Voldemort bend his head down and concentrate all of his efforts on the instrumentation again. Harry's scar hadn't bothered him at all, even when he'd stood right across from Voldemort in the cell. Somehow their link was not active, just like Voldemort's link with Ginny had been severed when Dumbledore had performed the banishment spell in the original room. Still, Harry thought, he would have to muster all of the meager Occlumency skills that Snape had tried to teach him his fifth year. Voldemort could detect any mind if it was close enough to him.

Harry was about to move out of his hiding place when, for the umpteenth time, he cast a glance upward at Ginny. She was still climbing and she was right: she was very good at it. She was high above him now but there was still even further for her to go before she reached the top. The structure seemed thicker at its highest points, the inverse of a tree, presumably because the gateway formed its source. But Harry also suspected that the surface of the structure wasn't as hard nearer the top. It looked much smoother and slippery; perhaps some of it was even still liquefied. How was she going to climb over it without falling?

Harry forced himself to put Ginny out of his mind. His fear would only make Voldemort aware of his presence much sooner. He slowly crept out of his hiding place and ambled further along toward the control area, but he had only walked one or two steps when he looked back up at the structure to see Ginny struggling to find a foothold on a very steep, narrow swath of material, all the while trying to shield herself from Voldemort's line of sight.

Harry took one anxious look at her, then back to Voldemort, then back to her again. He paused and let out a long sigh.

"No," he whispered aloud to himself. "No, I can't do this. I'm not a hero. I just promised her I would never leave her again and I don't care what she thinks. I'm never going to."

Harry turned and moved back down the level artery of structure he had just been climbing across. He stopped briefly as it curved upward at a sharp angle and searched for a foothold. Then he stepped up onto an upward spiraling arm of the structure. Quickly and with little regard for his own personal safety, he began to climb after Ginny.

Ron and Hermione crept cautiously down through the narrow passageway under the lake, wands out and their eyes peeled for signs of anyone other than themselves. So far they had met with only eerie silence.

"Good job with those Muggles back there," whispered Ron. "You nearly had me convinced!"

"Thanks," Hermione whispered back. "I had myself convinced, too."

They continued to creep along until they reached the small room that had once housed the entrance to the vortex. Ron was about to walk inside but Hermione grabbed onto his arm and nudged him in the direction of the dimly lit passageway that led down toward Voldemort's cavern. Ron gulped but nodded and they slowly began to walk on in that direction. Ron had only moved forward a few steps when he felt his foot hit something soft but firm. Hermione quickly grabbed him to keep him from falling over it.

"What - oh, goddess!" he declared as he looked down properly and saw the dark-cloaked body of a Death Eater. "He - he must be - " he started. "He must have had one awful hex put on him. Look!"

Hermione followed Ron's outstretched hand. Squinting, she could just make out in the very dim light that there were several Death Eaters lying on the ground motionless, all across the passageway in front of them. Hermione knelt down and touched her hand to the side of the Death Eater's neck.

"Quite a hex indeed," she said softly. "He's dead."

"What?" Ron whispered.

Hermione nodded.

"But who - " he stopped to look at Hermione. "Bloody hell - Snape! No wonder he didn't want us coming down here with him."

Hermione nodded again and let out a deep breath. "No wonder it's so quiet," she said. She crouched down and picked up the wand that had fallen by the Death Eater's side. "It's not very polite but I suppose he won't be needing this. Come on."

Ron and Hermione continued to walk deeper through the winding passageways, pausing only for Ron to collect his own serviceable wand from another of the fallen Death Eaters. The further they walked, the brighter the light became and the more clearly they could see the bodies piled up along the corridor walls, but there was still no sign of Snape or anyone else left alive.

"Look at this," said Ron, motioning at a heap in the corner of one wall. "This isn't a Death Eater."

Hermione walked over to see what he was looking at. It was a body like the others, but this one was small and green with whispers of white hair growing out from beneath its ears.

Hermione gasped. "It looks - it looks like Kreacher," she said.

"I bet it is Kreacher," said Ron. "And good riddance."

Hermione stared dumbly down at the expired house-elf.

"Don't tell me you feel sorry for him?" said Ron.

"Well, he was only following orders."

"I doubt he was - " Ron said, but then stopped talking as Hermione froze and placed a sudden hand on his shoulder. "What is it?" he whispered, almost inaudibly.

Hermione leaned very close to his ear. "There's someone in there," she said. "Behind that wall. Not moving." She pointed at a very small recess in the side of the wall opposite them that was shielded by shadows.

"How can you see - "

Hermione put her finger to her lips. They both walked very cautiously forward to the entrance of the recess. As they neared it, Ron could just about make out a large, plump shape sitting against the wall in the shadows unmoving. It didn't look quite like a Death Eater. Ignoring Ron's tug on her arm, Hermione continued to walk forward until she was inside the recess. Ron closely followed her, ducking his head down to avoid hitting it against the low ceiling.

They were standing almost toe to toe with the hunched down figure now. The recess was much darker than the corridor behind and they still couldn't see its face.

"Reveal yourself!" said Hermione suddenly.

There was no response.

"_Lumos Minimus," _she declared.

A very faint light formed at the end of her wand, enough to reveal the face of Dolores Umbridge. Her eyes were open but she was staring straight ahead and it didn't seem she could see them.

"She's - she's still breathing," whispered Ron, looking closely at Umbridge. "I don't understand."

"She's been kissed by a dementor," said Hermione. "Malfoy said he was going to do it but, oh, but, oh, Ron, it's so horrible!" She let out a small sob.

"If anyone deserved it, though, she did."

But Hermione shook her head vigorously, her bushy hair flying in tangles all over her face. "No one deserves that, Ron. No one."

"Yeah, right, well, we've got to get on, Hermione."

"I know, I know, I - "

Hermione and Ron both stopped and froze. They had both just heard a sound, a low moaning sound, issuing from somewhere very nearby. They looked around to try and locate its source when they heard it again.

"It's coming from behind that wall!" whispered Hermione, pointing her wand at the far end of the recess.

Ron reached over and touched the wall.

"It looks like this wall's been opened and then sealed back up again!" he said.

"Get back!" said Hermione suddenly.

"What - what are you - "

But Ron obeyed. Hermione pointed her wand at the opening.

"_Dissectum!" _she said.

The wall dissolved into a pile of rubble. Coughing as the small recess filled with dust from the small explosion, Hermione and Ron moved forward and squeezed themselves through the opening to find themselves in an alcove, slightly larger than the recess but still very small. Lying against the far wall of the alcove, and illuminated by the light of Hermione's wand, was the familiar figure of their former Potions Master.

"Professor Snape!" cried Hermione. "_Lumos."_

The small cell-like alcove lit up more brightly. They could now see that Snape's robes were ripped and disheveled and that one of his hands was chained to an iron handcuff which hung from the wall at the back. His eyes also seemed unaware and unfocused like Umbridge's but as they stepped closer, he moved his head slowly toward them and his eyes sparkled with a hint of recognition.

"Well, well, well," he said lazily, almost as though he was in a drunken stupor. "If it isn't the forces of Gryffindor justice coming to save the day. I didn't really think you'd do as I told you."

A thin trickle of blood escaped from Snape's mouth and wound its way down his chin as he spoke.

"Professor, we're going to get you out of here," Hermione declared. She aimed her wand at the point where the chain holding the handcuff met the wall. "Keep still."

"I would save your energies, Miss Granger," drawled Snape, "such as they are. There's nothing you can do to save me now."

Hermione shook her head. "Don't talk like that. We're going to get you - "

But she was forced to stop. Snape broke into a violent cough. More blood and what looked like pieces of lung and something else fell out of his throat and onto the ground.

"You don't have to look at me like that," he mumbled, after he was finished. "They - they burned the Dark Mark into my internal organs. The Dark - the Dark Lord's special punishment for those who betray him. But don't bother to worry, it didn't hurt nearly as much as they wanted it to. I - I - " Snape's head fell back. His eyes began to close.

Hermione leaned closer to him. "Professor Snape, please! We'll get you out of here right away! We'll get you to a healer. We - "

Snape's eyes opened again.

"A touching sentiment from the smartest mudblood I ever taught," he managed to say, "but predictably misguided. I am dying, Miss Granger."

Hermione felt tears prick her eyes. She started to sob.

"Come now," drawled Snape. "Where's the witch who wanted to hex me into pieces? You should be delighted."

Hermione shook her head again, tears running freely down her cheeks.

"There's no time - " said Snape, more blood running down his face and his eyes slowing closing. "There's no time for - "

His eyes suddenly opened wide. With a surprisingly burst of energy, he grabbed hold of Hermione's arm.

"Listen to me!" he said fiercely. "Listen _carefully, _both of you!" He looked up at Ron. "It's up to you now! You're the only ones who can stop him. You have to - you have to - " Snape's eyes faltered but he forced them open again. "There are two Death Eaters left with Voldemort inside the chamber. His plan is at - at a delicate stage. You have to k - kill one of them. Their soul loss will destroy the - the - destroy the Dark Lord's plans. Not Voldemort," he added quickly, squeezing Hermione's shoulder more tightly. "His soul is fix - fixed. Do you understand?"

Both Ron and Hermione nodded.

"Good."

A half-smile broke over Snape's face. His head fell back at an angle and his eyes closed slowly for the last time.

Hermione buried her face in her hands and her body began to shake with sobs.

Ron, who had been watching the whole exchange unfold in a shocked and numb way, now crouched to the ground and put his arms around Hermione's shoulders.

"H-h-h-e-e r-r-risked-d his life a-all th-those y-years f-f-for the O-O-Order," Hermione sobbed, "a - and n - n - now they - th-they s-still - " Hermione broke off and wiped her sleeve across her face. "Oh, R-Ron, h-he said we never kn-knew him and w-w-we n-never d-d-d-did. M-M-Maybe no one d-did; h-he just d-d-died like that - a - alone, all - all alone."

Hermione began to sob more loudly and buried her face into Ron's chest. He stared in disbelief at Snape's body for a moment, running his fingers through Hermione's hair. Then he took hold of her chin and motioned her face toward his.

"Hermione, I know. I know. But please listen to me, we've got to go on. Harry and Ginny are still down here somewhere!"

Hermione looked up at him for a moment, the tears still running down her cheeks, then she nodded. Ron awkwardly helped her to her feet. They were about to turn and walk out of the alcove when Hermione twisted back to look at Snape again.

"We - we can't just l-leave him like that!" she protested, with a spring of fresh sobs.

"Hermione, we'll come back for him later; we've got to keep going!"

Hermione looked at Snape again for a moment in hesitation but then she nodded again. They had barely turned their heads away from Snape's body when a sudden loud flash of something white whizzed out from the recess and hurtled past them down the corridor at lightning speed.

"What the bloody hell was that?" said Ron.

The floor suddenly rumbled and shook. Ron tried to hold onto Hermione but both of them lost their balance and fell to the ground.

Voldemort's fingers worked fast over the controls, his eyes widening in mounting horror.

"What happened?" he demanded. "I told you to seal him in!"

He looked to see Wormtail and Nott struggling to hold onto the walls for balance. Both of them looked back nervously at Voldemort and both seemed at a loss for words.

"Nott, the shields for the doors, quickly! _Seal the doors!"_

Struggling to stay upright as the cavern floor continued to rock under his feet, Nott made his way clumsily to an odd-looking stone potrubance near the door. With effort, he pushed it to one side then fell to the floor as a crackle of magical energy spread out from the point he had touched and blanketed the entire cavern. More rumbling sounds could be heard as the remaining openings around them were slowly sealed off.

Harry grabbed quickly onto a trunk of the structure for support as it suddenly rocked all around him, but the surface was too smooth. He tried to rest his foot on a piece of structure jutting out just below him but it cracked and fell under his weight. Clenching his teeth, Harry tried to dig his nails onto the smooth surface underneath him but he couldn't stop his quick slide down. His back hit hard against a curving branch below him and then he tumbled out into space.

"Harry!"

Ginny gasped as she watched Harry slide down and then tumble freely through the air. She tried to hold her wand out in front of her to stop his fall but the whole cavern was shaking so hard she couldn't even begin to aim. After what was probably only two or three of the longest seconds of Ginny's life, Harry tumbled stomach first over a sturdier looking branch and managed to grab his arms around it. Ginny watched with relief as he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, although she could see he was still in obvious pain.

"Just don't follow me, Harry," she whispered, knowing full well he was too far down to hear her. "You mustn't; you've got to - "

Ginny gasped again. There was another sickening lurch. She began to slide down the branch she'd been climbing. She tucked her left arm around it and steadied herself but her right hand lurched quickly out into space and she lost her grip on her wand. She could only watch as it ricocheted haphazardly down through the structure below and finally disappeared completely from view into the depths of the cavern.

Ginny held on fast to the branch as the cavern continued to rock. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted one of the Death Eaters making his way to the wall and turning some sort of control. A blue light shot out around the room and an instant later, all of the outer entrances were sealed off. The rumbling abruptly stopped.

But the damage had already been done.

Ginny looked for a moment deep down into the cavern where her wand had dropped and then across at Harry who was starting to climb toward her again. She was suddenly very glad he was too far away to see the look on her face.

She looked up again at the gateway. The veil was fluttering faster now and the ground resumed its low rumbling beneath her. Whatever it was that had caused the cavern to shake, it hadn't seemed to stop Voldemort's plans.

She took a deep breath, righted herself on the branch, and then slowly stood up. She winced briefly as she felt a stabbing pain surge through her still bandaged knee but she forced herself to shake it off. She looked up and found another foothold, then continued to climb.

"What's that sound?" asked Ron, slowly getting to his feet.

"I don't - " Hermione started. "Oh, no!" she suddenly cried. Without warning, she began to sprint down the corridors in the direction they'd been walking very slowly, the direction of the light that was now fading very fast.

"Wait!" cried Ron, running to keep up. "Hermione, not so fast! There might still be - "

"Don't you see?" Hermione replied, not looking back. "They're sealing off the cavern! If we don't get there fast, there'll be - "

Hermione stopped talking. They had reached another sort of recess. Beyond it, Ron could see a thin sliver of light that was rapidly closing. Hermione leapt toward the opening and tried to jam it open with her foot but (and to Ron's relief) it closed before she could reach it.

"_Alohomora!" _

Nothing happened.

"_Dissectum!" _

A red light shot out from Hermione's wand but before it could reach the smooth cement wall that had closed the opening, it seemed to strike an invisible barrier and dissipate; the opening remained shut.

"What's going on?" Ron demanded. "Hermione - "

Hermione let out a sigh and swung her head back to face him.

"This was the entrance to the cavern - that's where Voldemort is. And now he's shut it. Now no one can stop him."

Voldemort's hands moved over the instruments again. The build-up in the magical surge inhibitor seemed to stabilizing. The needle showing the energy level of the pentrax frame had stopped flickering madly and had begun to slowly creep upward once again in time with the return of the arc. All that was left was to stop this boy's stupid heart from pounding so fast. The toxic adrenalin that was coursing through the Dark Lord's body was unfamiliar and unwelcome and did nothing to clear his mind. He forced himself to calm again: he had conquered Malfoy's soul; he could conquer his body as well.

He had just begun to feel his breathing slow when Wormtail moved into his line of sight. He seemed to be groveling again. Voldemort felt his impatience rise.

"I - I'm sorry, my Lord." He fidgeted nervously with his hands. "We did - we did seal the cavern over Snape once we'd tortured him just as you told us to. I c - can't think how - "

"I do not need your excuses, Wormtail," Voldemort replied with forced patience. "We have only minutes left now. I only need you to - "

He stopped suddenly and looked out toward the cavern. There was something moving. Something that looked exactly like... No - no, it couldn't be.

The rumbling finally stopped. Harry forced himself upright, wincing as a sharp pain spread like a fire down his back. He also felt something dig painfully into his thigh. He reached down and removed the two ends of the now broken wand Wormtail had given him and stuck them back into his pocket, even though he knew the wand was now useless. Slowly, he got to his feet and began to climb again.

His next thought was for Ginny. He looked up and found that she hadn't fallen, though she was dangling precariously from one arm. He breathed a deep sigh of relief when she straightened herself, although his heart sank when he saw her start to climb again. He was much further away from her now but that wasn't going to stop him. He quickened his pace to follow her.

It was only when his attentions had fully returned to the climb that Harry noticed that his fall had left him wide out in the open. He looked quickly across to the control area. Voldemort seemed deep in conversation with Wormtail but then Harry thought he saw him stare straight out toward him. He quickly ducked behind a thick branch and began to climb cautiously up the side facing away from the control area, hoping that he hadn't been seen.

"What was that?" Voldemort demanded.

"I - I - " Wormtail turned toward the chamber. "I - don't know what - "

"POTTER!" Voldemort cried out suddenly as a telltale mop of jet black hair emerged from behind part of the structure for another brief moment. "POTTER IS HERE! _Potter is still alive! _But how - Wormtail, you - _WORMTAIL!!!"_

Voldemort whipped his head around sensing only too late the anxious anticipation he had mistaken all along for cowardice and fear. Wormtail had taken his wand out of his cloak. His eyes swimming with a ferocity of deceit, he aimed it quickly at Nott. At the last moment, the Death Eater turned around to face his attacker, a look of complete surprise on his face, but he was far too slow to defend himself.

"_ADAVA KEDAVRA!" _cried Wormtail.

"_CEASTUM!"_

With lightning reflexes, Voldemort's own wand was out and aimed at Nott. The two spells collided and slammed into Nott's shoulder hitting him hard and flipping him backward over the control area. A split second later Voldemort's wand was aimed at Wormtail.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Wormtail flew back against the base of the control panel. His wand collided sharply against the wall behind him and bounced back off it. The force of its flight carried it over the edge of the mezzanine and down into the cavern below.

Voldemort felt the anger and rage rise through the pounding blood of the Slytherin boy as he began to advance on Wormtail. Gone was the sniveling traitor's resolve, replaced once again by pitiful whimpering. And this only made Voldemort much more angry.

"My - my Lord - " croaked Wormtail. "I - I - "

"_CRUCIO!"_

Wormtail screamed out in agony.

"_CRUCIO!" _Voldemort bellowed again, even louder.

The screaming grew.

"_CRUCIO!" _Voldemort cried out a third time, his throat red and hoarse.

This time Wormtail stopped screaming altogether. He began to cough and choke. He writhed on the floor for a moment longer and then passed out completely.

Voldemort continued to advance toward him. Every nerve in his being told him what he had to do next. What had done so many times to so many wizards and never desired so much as he did now. He raised his wand again. The curse that would end this whimpering, traitorous, pathetic life once and for all danced on his lips, but then, with a grueling effort of willpower, Voldemort forced his wand to his side.

He wanted to kill Wormtail but he couldn't. If he struck him down, his soul would devastate the pentrax frame and end everything he had worked for, just as Wormtail had hoped his Killing Curse would release Nott's soul to do the same damage.

Nott.

Voldemort rushed over frantically to the other side of the floor. The Death Eater was motionless. He anxiously touched the side of his face and sighed in relief when he found that Nott's heart was still beating.

"I shall avenge you, Nott," Voldemort hissed. "I shall avenge you, the last of my Death Eaters. History will record you fighting at the side of the greatest sorcerer who ever lived at the moment of his triumph. _He did not stop us and he will not stop us!"_

Voldemort got to his feet and returned to the controls. Everything was still in order. He glanced quickly out toward the structure again. It seemed that Potter had disappeared. He dared not risk striking him for fear he would fall and his soul would be unleashed. Still, it did not matter. There was nothing Potter could do now. He could never climb up to the gateway in time, if indeed that was his aim. Only minutes remained now. All that was required was for Voldemort to conjure the nexus at the correct moment. And even though every wizard left alive seemed against him, Voldemort knew there was none who could stop him now.

Ron and Hermione returned, panting and full of sweat, to the original small alcove where they had watched the entrances close. Hermione had led them both on a fast-paced chase around all of the openings she could think of - up and down stairs, back and forth around passageways, but all to no avail - every entrance of every sort had been shut and no charms of any sort could open them back up again. Finally, his legs feeling like they were encased in iron, Ron collapsed to the ground. Hermione looked as though she was about to protest, but then collapsed down next to him.

"I - I wish," she said panting. "If I can only just - if I could - "

Ron put an arm on her shoulder.

"Hermione, if _you_ can't think of a way in there, there isn't one, believe me."

Hermione looked back and gave him a weak smile. "I'm sure if - if I could just - "

Ron ran his hands down to her hands and pulled her toward him.

"You can't, Hermione. There's nothing we can do. We just have to hope, that's all. We didn't find Harry and Ginny either. Maybe they've - maybe they've found something - or maybe - well, we can hope, I suppose."

Hermione moved closer to Ron and ran her fingers gently down the sides of his arms.

"Just like you used to hope Snape wouldn't notice you'd copied my paper?"

"Yeah, well, sometimes he didn't."

Hermione smiled weakly again.

"Oh, Ron," she said. "What was it you were going to give me anyway?"

Ron suddenly realized his bag was still tied to his back. It had been there all this time - all through their visit to St. Brutus's, all through their sprints down the many passageways of this hellish labyrinth. He reached back, about to unhook it, but then stopped.

"Well," he said sighing. "I suppose it doesn't matter anyway now. If someone can stop Voldemort, then I'll have the chance to give it to you again. If not, well - " Ron swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "I - I can't really think of anyone else I'd rather sit waiting for the end of the world than you. That's all it was ever about anyway."

If Hermione found Ron's words strange, she didn't show it. Her eyes filling with tears again, she reached out and tenderly wound her arms around Ron's back. As she did so, his own arms closed gently around the fragile warmth of her body.

"I love you, angel," he said.

"I love you, too, silly," Hermione sobbed.

Ron felt a sudden peace descend in his heart. Voldemort and his Death Eaters might have wanted to live forever but he only wanted to spend the last precious moments of his ephemeral existence with the person he truly loved. And now it seemed he would get his wish.

The rumbling sound continued to grow beneath them but neither Hermione nor Ron noticed. They just continued to hold onto each other. One way or another, it was all going to be over soon.

Voldemort tried to remain patient but the hand that was clenched around his wand was still dripping with sweat. He felt his new body begin to tremble with anticipation as the twin needles measuring the pentrax energy build-up and the arc's return moved in beautiful harmony toward their most extreme point. Finally, the needle measuring the arc dipped completely over the top. There was a crackling noise and the dial lit up in a yellow light. Malfoy felt himself start to tense as the pentrax energy needle continued to climb until it, too, finally reached its apex.

His moment had finally arrived. The moment that would be remembered by the ever-lasting generations of a people finally freed from the cruel bondage of death, a race of immortals that would hold him up as the god of all of their gods.

A burst of hideous laughter erupted unbidden from Voldemort's chest. He raised his wand high, forcing himself to concentrate. He would form the nexus and aim precisely at the center point of the upper beam in the stone archway, just as he had in the Department of Mysteries when he'd transported the veil to its final home.

"_Dàsachd Tri-oisinneach_!"

Voldemort's triumphant cry echoed around the five sides of the chamber just as the orange triangle erupted from his wand like a blistering fire. He let it hover in the air for a moment, then guided it up toward the gateway. He allowed it to gather energy from the pentrax and coalesce into a single powerful beam, the beam that would end once and for all the -

Voldemort suddenly stopped and lowered his wand. The nexus began to lose energy and then finally disappeared. He did not have a clear shot toward the gateway. Standing on a ridge in front of the stone archway, her red hair lit like a burning bush from the light of the structure around her, was Ginny Weasley.

A sudden feeling of dread and panic began to build up inside Voldemort, rising just as uninvited as the giddy laughter that had preceded it. There was only a four minute window and at least a minute of that had passed now. He had to conjure the nexus soon or the arc would move away again.

"Ginny!" he called out, an unwelcome note of hysteria in his voice. "We've been playing a long and complicated game, you and I. We need to end this game, Ginny. You need to step away from the gateway."

No response.

"Ginny!" Voldemort called out again, his voice rising. "You don't want to talk to me, Ginny? You were all full of words before. Why the sudden change? I thought we were friends, you and I. That's what you told me, wasn't it? You aren't going to betray me, are you, Ginny?"

Still no response.

"Are you angry because of what I did to you, Ginny? I only gave you what you secretly wanted. I know you know that even if you don't want to admit it. Don't forget: I read your mind through our link; I know your thoughts. Of course, you didn't want to tell Harry, but we understand each other, don't we?"

Silence.

"You think I want to hurt you, Ginny, don't you? You think I'm going to kill Harry; you think I'm going to kill your friends and your family. But you're wrong, Ginny. Dumbledore lied to you. You _know _he lied to you; I can feel your disappointment with him, Ginny. Don't struggle against it. I only killed because I had to. And what do those deaths mean now? They'll all come back to life, Ginny. I can make them. And none of us will ever die again. Do you want to stop that, Ginny? Do you really want to be the one who stops that?"

But still Ginny said nothing. She just continued to stand in front of the gateway, blocking Voldemort's path. Nor was there anywhere he could move to take a clear shot behind her. She was standing up against the veil and he was far on the other side of the chamber. And time was running out. To think that this girl - this girl he had once toyed with so easily, this girl who had no weapons, this girl who was too stupid to move and save her own life - to think that she could somehow end everything for which generations of dark wizards had labored. It was unthinkable; it was unspeakable. Voldemort began to feel his rage build up inside of him again quite easily, the rage that had gone unsatisfied when he hadn't been able to kill Wormtail, the rage which now threatened to unleash itself against this monstrous child.

The rage he wasn't at all sure he could keep under control any longer.

"_You sorry, miserable, horrid little brat!" _he bellowed. "_Did you think you could stand your filthy little blood traitor body in my way and stop me! Is that what you imagined? Did you really believe that a puny, sorry thing like you could stop the Dark Lord? DID YOU? ANSWER ME!!!"_

But there was no answer.

"_CRUCIO!" _

With a grunt of pain, Harry hoisted himself desperately onto the main branch just above him. He was less than ten meters below Ginny now and about twenty meters to her left. But as he heard the anger bleeding out of Voldemort's voice, ten meters seemed like ten miles. His back continued to spasm in pain but he ignored it again. He only had one thought. He had to reach Ginny. Gods, he just _had _to. He couldn't let Voldemort hurt her.

Harry didn't want to look toward Ginny but he couldn't tear his eyes away either. She screamed out in agony as Voldemort's curse struck her just below her shoulder. Harry felt sure she would fall off the slippery dais where she was standing, the very spot where the liquefied structure flowed out into a ridge before dipping its viscous entrails down into the cavern. Yet she managed to hold onto the ridge with her hands even as the lower half of her body threatened to collapse under Voldemort's curse.

"_At last, she speaks!" _cried Voldemort shrilly. "_But that's not good enough, I'm afraid, Ginny! I - need - you - to - LISTEN!"_

Harry quickly made his way up the final tower to a short platform parallel to the ridge. After that, a thin branch would connect him straight across. He only hoped it would hold. He didn't have much other choice.

"_CRUCIO!!!!" _Voldemort bellowed again.

Harry winced as Ginny shrieked again. He watched as her face screwed up and tears of pain ran down her cheeks but she continued to catch hold of the ridge. She was on her knees now, though, and, looking back, Harry could see that Voldemort had raised his wand to conjure the nexus. But the next moment, Ginny awkwardly rose to her feet yet again and he was once again forced to lower his wand. Harry didn't need any outward sign to tell him how displeased the Dark Lord was now, but if he could climb just a little faster, then it wouldn't matter. He was almost at the platform now. Just a few more strides and he would reach it.

"_Will nothing break you?" _Voldemort cried out fanatically. "_Perhaps you are death itself. But death cannot stop the likes of me! _I - CONTROL - DEATH!"

With a final heave, Harry reached the top of the platform. He was less than fifteen meters away from Ginny now. Fifteen level meters.

And so Harry began to run toward Ginny, over a thin platform he was not certain could hold the lightest of footsteps, much less his heavy strides. But Harry didn't care about that. He didn't care about the gateway either. He just wanted to get Ginny out of the way.

"I CONTROL EVERYTHING IN EXISTENCE!" Voldemort shrieked, completely beside himself. "AND JUST AS I CAN GIVE LIFE SO CAN I _TAKE - IT - AWAY!"_

Harry was only meters away now. Ginny stood straight in front of him. He could just about reach out his arms and -

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Harry leapt into the air.

Ginny turned to him and smiled.

A green light shot out from Voldemort's wand.

Harry landed on top of Ginny and both of them fell hard to the ground. He looked at her numbly. A smile was still written on her face but Harry knew that it wasn't her looking back up at him. A thousandth of a second earlier and he would have tackled her to safety. Perhaps the curse would have even hit him. But that was not what had happened. He had seen what had happened. The green light had struck her just like it had struck his mother. Ginny was dead.

Voldemort raised his wand again.

"_Dàsachd Tri-_"

A loud explosion reverberated throughout the cavern followed by a series of sharp cracking noises. Harry looked up to see fissures developing in the flawless walls surrounding them. Suddenly, the ridge on which he and Ginny were lying began to buckle and then pitch at a sharp angle. Harry desperately reached out and grabbed onto the brittle edge, pinning Ginny's body underneath him. He looked across to see Voldemort hunched over his controls, trying to use his wand to stabilize what had just been unleashed. And as he looked up, Harry saw something else as well. A bright light shining in the cavern just above him. It seemed to gather in strength and intensity then, like a Snitch released at the beginning of a Quidditch match, it suddenly began to move in rapid circles around the enormous space. It bounded away from several walls, digging large holes and searing wide cracks. Voldemort ducked as it accelerated into his control center, setting off another loud explosion and a crackle of magical energy that erupted around the cavern like a fireworks display. The steel mezzanine area began to buckle and twist at an angle. Voldemort seized onto the control platform and managed to stop himself from falling off but he couldn't prevent the unconscious bodies of Wormtail and Nott from sliding down the surface and away into the chasm below.

Harry heard another loud cracking noise behind him and swung around to see that the wire holding the stone archway was beginning to come loose from the ceiling. The gateway started to swing back and forth like a pendulum, the veil still fluttering madly from an unseen wind. Finally, there was an enormous rushing noise and the ball of white energy whooshed right over Harry's head and rushed straight into the veil, then disappeared.

"No!" cried Harry suddenly. "NO!"

With a final burst of strength, Harry positioned Ginny's body in front of him and pushed them both up to an awkward standing position. The thick pathway that had connected the ridge to the veil was now reduced to a thin, brittle branch but it was still passable. Without hesitation, Harry picked Ginny up in his arms and ran quickly toward the gateway. The pathway splintered and cracked with each bounding stride he took but Harry only ran faster. He watched as the stone archway swung slowly back toward the pathway. Clutching Ginny tightly against him, he leapt through the air. With a final snapping, cracking sound the pathway disappeared beneath his feet. A split-second later, the cool fabric of the veil enveloped both of them.

And neither emerged from the other side.


	26. The Hand Of The Other

**Chapter 26**

**The Hand of the Other**

_"I - I think he might be coming around."_

_"James, is that shield holding up?"_

_"I've done the best I can. It won't hold forever though. The instability is fading."_

_"Look, the colors are returning, and - "_

_"He's definitely - look, his eyes are opening! Harry, Harry, can you - "_

_"Harry! Harry!"_

_Harry's eyes opened. A wave of pain and disorientation washed over him, but it was gone by the time he looked into the long red hair and soft brown eyes that were peering down over him._

_"Ginny!" he said, a wave of relief washing over him. "Oh, gods, Ginny. I thought you were - "_

_Harry quickly got to his feet but immediately regretted it. He felt as though his stomach had been plunged upside down. He was standing in a valley - an enormous valley that stretched further than the seeing eye could comprehend. It was incredibly beautiful but only in a stark, lifeless way. Bleak mountains stretched high above him on either side. The ground beneath his feet was white and parched. Large, thick black clouds hung like enormous upside-down mushrooms from the sky, spitting wispy tendril-like strands that nearly touched the ground. Even as Harry looked, however, they began to fade. A brief, flitting flash of sunlight scattered along the ground and lit up a narrow swath of river that criss-crossed the valley floor. Harry took in an incredulous breath. It was only then that he realized he had stood in this valley once before._

_This was the valley from the vision that Sirius had shown him all those many months ago, when he'd first re-appeared from behind the mask of Professor Janus. But how - but how did he get - _

_"Steady on, Harry," said a man's voice. "I know this must all seem a bit of a shock to you but you've got to avoid any quick movements. We've contained you in a shield, but it's only short term and very unstable."_

_Startled, Harry looked to the source of the voice. He could dimly make out a row of witches and wizards, all wearing the same fading grey cloaks, standing in front of a large stone from which a number of strange-looking wires emitted. Hanging in the air above the stone was a sort of grey cloud with lots of little lights in it. Harry struggled to think where he'd seen the cloud before and then he realized it was like a miniature version of the vortex that had connected the bubble world of St. Brutus's to Voldemort's base. He had also seen this rock and this cloud once before in Sirius's vision. On that occasion also, there had been wizards and witches standing over it, but there were much fewer now._

_"Where - where is everyone?" said Harry suddenly, feeling a bit foolish after saying so. It was as though his thoughts were spilling out of the end of his mouth._

_"Frightened," said the same man again. "They've run to hide in the spaces of the inside but we're still here. After all, someone has to man the controls to see if our little plan to save the world will work. Gryffindors never hide and, well, even I've managed to find a little bravery from somewhere in my soul."_

_Harry squinted at the figures in front of him. He sensed the man's voice was coming from among them although it seemed he was hearing it from a long way away. Harry started to walk closer but it seemed that the distance between him and the strange group standing behind the boulder remained at the same distance. The man smiled at him. Harry squinted again. There was something familiar about -_

_"Prof - Professor Nevins?" he said._

_"Yes, Harry."_

_"So you - so you're all right. That's a relief! Ginny said you were - "_

_"I am dead, Harry, but my soul has continued to exist, thanks to you and Ginny."_

_As if on cue, another flash of sunlight lit up the valley. Harry looked up to see that the grey clouds were now fading into puffy white ones. The whole cathedral of the sky still seemed somehow even more vast and enormous than the sky in Harry's world. He looked back at the wizards and witches standing over the rock and found that he could see them more clearly now, but there was still a slight fuzzy blur around their faces. It contrasted strangely to the sharpness of the land around them. As Harry peered at the other wizards and witches in the group, the blur around them began to clear slightly. Harry had the sudden strange impression they were concentrating to let him see._

_"Well, I would have thought I deserved a little of the credit myself," said another familiar voice._

_"Sirius!"_

_Harry's godfather, whom he could now see was standing next to Nevins, gave him a small nod. _

_"I - I don't understand," said Harry._

_"Do you remember what happened?" Sirius asked._

_"I - I - " Harry looked down for a moment. Events and images blurred through his mind. It was like struggling to recall the details of a dream._

_"I was - I was in that cavern - Voldemort's cavern - I was climbing - I - I was climbing after Ginny. Then - then Voldemort - then - I - I ran through the veil, didn't I? I was trying to save Gi - Ginny, Ginny, where are you?"_

_"I'm right here, Harry."_

_Harry looked over to the far end of the row of wizards and witches. One more seemed to have joined their side now. Harry sighed in relief._

_"Don't ever do that again, please. I thought I had lost you. How did you get over there so sudden - "_

_Harry suddenly stopped talking. A horrible chill began in his head and traveled backward down his spine. Ginny was still dressed in the same patchwork robes she'd been wearing when she'd climbed up the structure; they contrasted vividly to the dull garments of the others standing next to her. Yet there was something else about her that wasn't quite right. Harry wasn't sure what it was for a moment until he noticed that Ginny's face was growing slightly opaque, just as if she, too, was - _

_"Ginny!" Harry cried out in sudden alarm. "Ginny, come over here! Don't stand next to them. They're dead. We're - "_

_But Ginny's face twisted and her eyes screwed up. Harry thought he could see tears start to run down her cheeks._

_"I-I-I'm r-really s-sorry, Harry," she said. "I-I tr-tried to th-think of a-another way to st-stop him b-b-but my wand f-fell and I-I couldn't - "_

_Ginny's whole body started to blur and completely dissolve. _

_"Ginny!" Harry cried out again in alarm. "Ginny!"_

_"Ginny, concentrate!" another wizard's voice rang out. "Try to keep yourself in one piece! You've got to remain as whole as you can!"_

_Harry's head swung around again. It was the wizard standing over the controls who had spoken. He looked at him properly and drew in a gasp. He had seen that face before, once standing over the rock, and many more times in the mirror each morning. Only the color of the eyes was different._

_"Dad?" he said, in a hoarse whisper._

_The wizard looked up at him. They locked eyes for a brief moment, then the wizard nodded._

_"And..."_

_Harry's voice trailed off as he looked at the witch standing to his right. He didn't have to be told who she was either._

_"Mum?"_

_Lily Potter smiled on him kindly._ _"Oh, Harry," she said. "I knew you would stop him. I knew it would be you. We're so proud of you. We - "_

_Then Lily collapsed into sobs of her own._

_"Mum!" said Harry. He tried to run closer but he still couldn't seem to reach her. "Mum, don't cry, I - "_

_"Ginny, keep yourself together!" James cried out again._

_Harry turned again to look at Ginny. She was still fading and blurring, but then after a moment, she slowly began to solidify again._

_"Well done," said James. "It should be easier for you than for us. You've only just arrived."_

_"Wait!" said Harry suddenly. "I still don't understand. Will someone please tell me - "_

_"We're beyond the veil, Harry," said Ginny. "Do you remember? You pulled me in here. You jumped after me and then pulled my body in with you."_

_"Your body? What - I - "_

_"I-I-I'm dead, Harry," said Ginny, letting out another sob. "Voldemort killed me."_

_Harry looked at her for a moment. He had suspected it, of course; he had _known _it, but now that he heard the words from Ginny's lips, he realized he'd been holding onto the tiniest of hopes that he'd been wrong; that hope had just been crushed completely. But then another thought occurred to him._

_"But I - I - I'm dead, too, aren't I? After all, I - I fell through the veil - just like - just like Sirius."_

_He looked across at his godfather as though pleading for support, but his eyes large with sympathy, Sirius slowly and painfully shook his head._

_"You're still alive, Harry," said James, seeming unable to meet his son's eyes. "There's still instability between the two worlds. I was able to construct a shield around you like the one I prepared for Sirius before he crossed over to your side of the gateway. But it won't hold out for as long. The arc has begun to move back now and Ginny destroyed Voldemort's pentrax technology. Things are returning to their rightful place and your rightful place is with the living. You won't be able to stay here much longer."_

_"Then I'm taking Ginny back with me!"_

_"Harry, listen to me," said Lily gently. "You don't know what it's been - "_

_"Ginny, keep yourself together!" James cried out again._

_Harry looked over to see that Ginny had begun to blur indistinctly again. A moment later, she solidified but he could see that she was struggling._

_"Try to keep calm," added James more softly. "Your strong feelings are triggering your soul shift."_

_Ginny nodded and then looked back to Harry and met his eyes. He could see she was fighting to keep her emotions in check._

_"James, why?" said Lily. "She belongs here now. It will only be harder for her if she doesn't learn to merge like the rest of us. Her soul is free from her body now. You're - " _

_She suddenly stopped talking. James was looking across at her with an expression of hardened determination. Harry realized that he'd seen this expression many times before in the mirror, too._

_"You're - you're going to - " Lily let out a small gasp._

_"I'm going to do exactly what Harry just said, or I'm going to try." _

_"No, James, you can't!" Lily cried out again. "Ginny died!"_

_"I don't care! Don't you see?" said James, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "His whole life he's just watched as everyone and everything's he's ever loved has been taken away from him. You. Me. Sirius. Can you imagine how he feels? I'm not going to let it happen again!"_

_"Do you think I don't know... Do you - do you think I - " Lily started to sob again. "James, we may not like it but it doesn't change the fact! If we try to send her back, we're no better than Voldemort! We'll be destroying the balance, however well meaning - "_

_But James shook his head again. Harry was afraid he was going to lose his temper at his mother, but when James spoke next, his voice was much calmer._

_"No, Lily," he said. "We're going to be _restoring_ the balance. Voldemort damaged the line of stability between the two worlds. The only way we can restore is by sending something from this world permanently back into the world of the mundanes." He looked back at Harry. "If your mother or I or any of the rest of us went back, it simply wouldn't work. Anyone who's stayed here any length of time can't be separated from any of the other souls in this world. But Ginny's only just arrived."_

_"But it's still too dangerous!" Lily protested. "She's already started to merge! If she splinches between the dimensions, her soul will be annihilated. You'd need a navigator and we don't - "_

_"Haven't you noticed what she's wearing around her neck?"_

_All eyes now turned to Ginny. She herself slowly reached around behind her neck. Harry noticed for the first time that there was a small gold cord hanging around it. Ginny pulled at it and Harry saw that it was attached to a pendant that had been hanging underneath her robes. It looked like it was made of silver and was formed in the shape of a triangle inscribed inside a pentagon. Moreover, the outline of the pendant was sharp and clear against Ginny's otherwise opaque form._

_"The pentrax frame," muttered Sirius._

_"Who gave that to you, Ginny?" asked James._

_"The - the - an elf, a house-elf," said Ginny, looking bewildered. "But it's just a child's - "_

_There were hushed murmurs among the others._

_"You see," said James to Lily. "The navigators' prophecy. And they will return to fulfill it. We just have to be ready when the time comes." James looked up at his son for the first time since the conversation had begun. "I can't promise you anything, Harry," he said, "except my very best effort. I couldn't save myself for you. I couldn't save your mother. But there's a chance - just a chance - that I might be able to save Ginny." _

_Harry looked back at his parents. His father held an expression of determined reassurance for several moments, while his mother flashed him a warm, equally hopeful, smile. He had understood very little of what they had just said to him but one thing had been very much clear: somehow here, even in this disembodied state, the separation and longing that had been his companions ever since he was old enough to remember had been shared by them as well. He looked over at Ginny, the pendant around her neck shining like a beacon in this otherwise shadowy, dream-like world. He could see the confusion and loss on her own face. He imagined what it was like for her now, alone in this place without him. He tried to run toward them all again but still his movement didn't seem to carry him anywhere. It was as though he wasn't really there at all. And then Harry decided he had a far better idea than his father's._

_"Wait - look," he said, disturbed to find his words coming out in awkward sobs. "I-I, y-you don't have to, D-Dad."_

_James looked up at him in surprise._

_"I-I mean, I-I'm going to st-stay here. J-Just break the sh-shield. It will k-k-kill me, won't it?"_

_"Harry, it will be horribly painful!" cried Lily._

_"Harry, no!" said Ginny._

_But Harry shook his head stubbornly. "N-no," he said. "I've - I've made up my mind. I don't care. You can send something else back across. I-I don't belong back there. I belong h-here with you - w-with all of you."_

_There was a long moment of silence. Then the familiar gruff voice of Sirius said:_

_"Well, I'd have thought one of you might have had the courage to remind him," he said. "I think Harry's a little tired of others sugar-coating the truth."_

_"I didn't notice you stepping forward," said Nevins, slightly reproachfully._

_"Remind me what?" asked Harry._

_"Harry," said Sirius. "You - "_

_"No, Sirius," said James. "I should be the one to say it. If it weren't for that night in the Burrow, the prophecy might have belonged to someone else. Harry, you have to go back because only you can kill Voldemort."_

_"B - but I don't understand. You said Ginny destroyed the pentrax technology. A - and your world's coming back. The threat is over - isn't it?"_

_"No, Harry," said Lily, and Harry could see that his mother was trying hard to fight back tears again. "He'll only come back. He'll rebuild the technology. And if you're here with us, there won't be anyone who can stop him."_

_"B - but there must be some other way," Harry protested._

_"There isn't another way, Harry," said Sirius, as gently as he could. "I think you know that. You don't belong here - not yet."_

_"Yes, I do!" said Harry forcefully. "This is my home! This is where I belong!"_

_"Harry, if you don't return to defeat Voldemort and he succeeds again, then this world as well as yours and everyone in it will be destroyed," said Nevins. "Do you want that?"_

_Harry looked at all of them for a moment. Somehow he could see them more clearly now. Perhaps it was because they meant him to; perhaps it was because it had just become easier for him to imagine the way they looked in his eyes. And he didn't want to forget. Why should he?_

_"Of course I don't want that," he said, "but I - I - why does it have to be _me_? Why - " Harry felt his anger and frustration begin to mount. "WHO CARES ABOUT SOME DUMB PROPHECY ANYWAY? I DIDN'T ASK TO BE A HERO! I JUST WANTED WHAT EVERYONE ELSE HAS! A MOTHER! A FATHER! A GIRLFRIEND! AND NOW I HAVE TO GIVE IT ALL UP SO EVERYONE CAN BE HAPPY BUT ME! IS THAT IT?"_

_There was a long moment of silence. Harry watched as his mother started to cry quite openly. James put an arm around her but looked only stoically ahead at his son. Ginny looked as though she was struggling to keep her form again. Harry started to regret his outburst, but try as he might, he couldn't quite manage to take back the words. After all, he had meant them._

_"I shouldn't burn out your souls trying to make the boy see reason. He's far too self-centered to take pity even on his own crying mother. But then the apple never really falls very far from the tree, does it?"_

_Harry recognized the voice instantly but his mind still struggled to comprehend what he was hearing. And he wasn't the only one who seemed surprised. To Harry, the voice had seemed to come out of nowhere, but_ _the others had turned to look at a spot slightly to the left of the large rock. Harry followed their gaze to see that something was forming there. It started off as a sort of grey haze but then solidified into something mostly black. A few moments later, it was obvious that a human form was appearing: a chalk white face in tattered black robes that contrasted starkly with the faded garments worn by the others. It never fully solidified but then Harry didn't need anyone to tell him who it was._

_"Well, well, well," said Snape. "So there really is a world beyond the gateway. Given Potter's intransigence, however, I doubt it will remain here much longer."_

_Harry watched as Sirius and James visibly tensed. His father's hand reached down to the side of his pocketless garment, as though instinctively reaching for a wand. Both of them looked daggers at the unwelcome newcomer, but it was Harry's mother who spoke._

_"How dare you talk about Harry like that!" she hissed, her eyes full of sudden anger. "How dare you even speak his name from your filthy mouth!"_

_"I feel I should warn you, Severus," said Sirius idly. "I may have let it slip to James and Lily that you were, on occasion, not very considerate to Harry."_

_Snape ignored him. "Far be it for such a lowly, despised creature as myself to pour blasphemy on the great heroes of wizard-kind. After all, I must have still been working for Voldemort all along. That probably explains why he tortured and killed me."_

_"A pity he hadn't managed it a few years sooner," said James coldly. "I was so looking forward to having you join us."_

_"There's no need for worry, Potter, I won't be staying for long," replied Snape. "I don't expect you to understand but my family were tortured and killed by Ministry agents in the First War. They suspected that just because they were one of the oldest and proudest of the pure-blood families that they must have been Death Eater sympathizers. They were wrong, though their actions ended up resulting in a sort of, shall we say self-fulfilling prophecy, especially where I was concerned. I expect they're somewhere here in this place, and I'd prefer finding them to spending my time with those who would have sympathized with their persecutors, especially now that the days of this world are so numbered."_

_Snape took one last significant look at Harry, then the white and black mass grew more opaque, and finally faded completely from sight._

_There was another long pause._

_"Harry, listen to me," said James. "Lily was right. The likes of him aren't worthy to talk to you or us but - "_

_"I'll - I'll go," said Harry quickly, looking down. "Of course, I - of course I'll go._ _I mean - I didn't really mean - I always knew - I just - "_

_He swallowed hard. It had suddenly become very difficult for him to talk. He knew he had to defeat Voldemort; he had always known, but the idea of being separated from everyone who had ever cared for him seem to suck away at his insides like a horrible parasite. He felt a painful lump in his throat but managed to look up at the others even as tears pricked his eyes._

_No one spoke at first. If anything, Harry could see his mother was crying harder now than before, tears running like trickling rain down cheeks that were trapped forever in youth. Ginny was crying, too, but Harry was pleased to see she that she didn't seem to be fading out this time. Her hands were clutched over the strange pendant she wore around her neck, as though she was determined to absorb as much of its magic as possible. Their eyes met and Harry let her feel with his heart the words which it seemed could no longer come out of his mouth._

_Finally, and somewhat to Harry's surprise, it was Nevins who spoke:_

_"Harry," he said. "I've already told you that you are one of the bravest wizards I've ever met, but there's something else I should have told you and never did. I tried to tell Ron the moment before I died but it I didn't get the chance. Now, I can tell you myself:_

_"There's a reason that you are the one who has to kill Voldemort. It's not because of a prophecy. Prophecies are only good judges of character. In a way, it has to be you precisely _because_ you don't want it. When most people kill, even when they kill something as horrible as twisted as Lord Voldemort, they kill for power; they kill for glory. In a way, they become the evil they've destroyed. But if you kill Lord Voldemort, it won't be for any of those reasons. It will be out of love: love of your family, love of your friends. That's what makes you a true hero, Harry."_

_"I would listen to him, Harry," said Sirius. "He's always had a way of sizing people up."_

_"Harry, I'm going to do my very best to get Ginny back to you," said James. "And if I don't succeed, we'll take good care of her, I promise."_

_"Harry, we all love you," said Lily, her tears drying. "And one day we'll all be here again together."_

_"Are you ready, Harry?" asked James. "I'm not sure I can keep this shield together much longer."_

_Harry managed a nod; that was about all he could manage._

_"If you look in your pocket, Harry," said Sirius. "You'll find your wand's been repaired. I've also added, well..." He hesitated as Nevins looked over to him a little suspiciously. "...just a little something to it. Oh, and Harry, when you get to the other side, try to remember your flying lesson. I'm afraid you're going to need it."_

_Harry looked slightly startled at his godfather's words. He was about to ask him exactly what he meant when a grey tendril erupted from the strange ball of light exactly as it had just before he'd returned from his last strange vision of the world beyond the gateway. A sharp pain sliced to his chest and he once again experienced the unpleasant sensation that his whole body had caught on fire. The world around him began to blur. But before it had faded completely, he could have sworn he saw Ginny begin to step out from the others toward him._

_"Harry Potter!" she cried out shrilly. "I told you we'd spend the rest of lives together and I meant it!"_

_The pain began to blot out all other sensations. Harry felt his body start to lurch forward as though propelled by a giant hand. The landscape faded completely into black. He was moving again, whether forward or backward he couldn't be sure. Suddenly, a cool fabric caressed his back almost as though he had fallen on top of it from a great height._

And then he was falling again. Really falling this time. Flashes of light and the sounds of small explosions filled the air around him. He looked up quickly to see the gateway still hanging high above him, the veil he had just fallen through still blowing in the air that had just sucked him back into this world. It seemed that his body had now completed its fall right out through the other side as though all the time spent in between had occurred in the improbable middle of his own short flight.

But one thing had changed. Ginny was no longer with him, neither her body nor her soul. Both it seemed were beyond the gateway.

Harry wrenched his attention sharply back to the here and now. He was picking up speed very fast. The labyrinth structure that had been spun from the gateway was now completely above him and he was falling quickly into the dark, unseen depths of the cavern. If he didn't do something to stop his fall soon, his time back in this world would be very brief and very painful.

But for several panicked moments, Harry was sure that he wasn't going to make it. A wave of nausea and disorientation grew precipitously as he tumbled down deeper into the chasm. Sirius had reminded him to fly and now he knew why, but how could he possibly begin to remember how to do it? His lone flying lesson with Sirius in his Janus form back at Hogwarts seemed to have taken place many lifetimes ago.

But Harry knew that he had no other choice. He struggled to pull the cobwebs away from his mind as though he was peeling away the outer skin from a piece of fruit. He thought of all his lost loved ones waiting for him behind the gateway, how much they depended on him, how much he couldn't bear to see their smiling faces forever erased. And then finally when he could almost see them all standing before him again, Harry felt a deep tranquil feeling of love wash over him. His mind began to calm even as his body picked up ferocious speed. He began to visualize himself on a broomstick-less flight just as he had back at Hogwarts. He turned out his feet and his palms and his tumbling began to stop, but he was still hurtling toward the unseen surface of the cavern at a very high speed. He pivoted his arms and legs in place but nothing happened. Fighting to sustain his concentration, Harry tried again but still nothing worked. He continued to gather speed. It was obvious that he lacked the skills to reverse his momentum at such a pace.

Without even realizing he had done so, Harry reached into his pocket. There was his wand just as Sirius had promised.

"_Lumos!" _Harry cried.

His hand shook as a very bright beam of light exploded out of its end. Whatever Sirius had done to his wand, it had been more than to just repair it.

The floor of the cavern was just ten meters below him and closing fast. Eight meters. Six meters. Harry spotted a loose boulder.

"_Levitatus!"_

The rock shot upwards. Harry guided the side of his body toward it and squeezed his eyes shot. There was a horrible bone jarring crush to his hip. Harry was sure something had broken but the boulder had done its work. He was moving upwards again, but there would be only a split-second before he started to fall. Ignoring the blistering pain of the impact, Harry stretched out his arms and legs like a beetle. His upward rise slowed at first but then, very slowly, he began to continue to move upward, as though he was floating through water rather than air. He cautiously moved his arms and legs back and forth like Sirius had shown him and he continued to rise even further. Then suddenly he began to swoop and fall again like he had in the old Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, but he forced himself to steady and began to slowly climb again. Finally, he reached the sinewy bottom tendrils of the structure. He tested the surface tentatively with his feet and found that it still held, although brittle pieces from other parts of the structure continued to break away and fall down into the chasm like bits of a melting glacier.

As soon as Harry put pressure on his right foot, he could feel a sharp stabbing pain from where the boulder had collided into his side. Looking down he could also see blood soaking through the side of his trousers. He held out his wand again and performed a makeshift healing charm on his hipbone, then a clotting charm to close the wound. Like the light he had conjured before, the wand seemed to perform the healing charm much better than Harry ordinarily would have been able to himself. The area felt mostly numb now and Harry was sure he still didn't have full movement but it was better than any of the alternatives.

Once he had gingerly tested his foot once or twice, Harry looked up into the cavern above him. He was about fifty meters below the control area. Voldemort seemed to have succeeded in moving the mezzanine platform back into an upright position, although there were still rumbling sounds coming from the wall behind it. From where he stood, Harry could just about make out Malfoy's form still bending over the controls, but it was obvious that he hadn't noticed Harry. Well, that was soon going to change. Now that he was safely in a stationary position, Harry wouldn't need to fly to get himself up there. He pointed his wand at himself.

"_Levitatus!"_

Harry felt his breath sucked away as he shot up into the air like a cannon. The parts of the structure near the mezzanine had now completely collapsed and Harry sailed through clear air, steering himself up toward the controls. For a moment, he thought that his supercharged wand would cause him to overshoot the mezzanine completely, but he rose to a spot just above it, then steadied his slow fall back down onto the ledge right in front of Voldemort.

And yet still, for a moment, Voldemort did not look up from the controls. Harry held his wand out in front of him. For an instant, he had the absurd notion that after all that had happened, he could kill the Dark Lord where he stood without Voldemort paying the slightest bit of attention. But as soon as a hex had formed in his mind, the once Master of all the Death Eaters slowly lifted his head as though he had known Harry had been there all the time.

Harry drew in his breath. Deep gashes and burn marks now lined the once flawless face of Draco Malfoy. The front part of his hair seemed completely singed away and one of his eyeballs hung lifelessly down at its side. But the other stared at him with a deranged intensity.

"I will build it all back," he said. "Every last thing the blood traitor destroyed, I will build back. The arc comes and goes and it will return again. I will recruit new Death Eaters. There will be many willing to join my side when they hear of the destiny I have planned for our kind. There always were before. There's no need to worry - Harry. Our new sun will still rise one day, only this time you really won't be alive to see it. Perhaps it will be just as brilliant from the other side of the gateway. But I wouldn't know: after all, I have never died."

But Harry slowly shook his head. At one time in his life, the power of the Dark Lord had terrified him; later, he had found himself consumed with vengeance and his inability to find the magical abilities to act on it. But now the only thing that filled Harry's heart was love for those that had taken to him to this moment and place where he would finally save them once and for all.

"You're wrong, Tom," he said. "There won't be another day. I have come here to end this."

Voldemort gave Harry a smile that revealed several blackened and missing teeth.

"The old cow really was right, after all, wasn't she? I really _will_ be the one to kill you. I should congratulate you, Harry. You'll be remembered by generations of wizard kind." The smile faded. "Remembered as the last who dared to stand in my way. From your death, the Dark Lord will rise again! _Avada Kedavra!"_

Voldemort's wand was out in his hand and his hex cast at a speed too fast for Harry to see, but before the curse could reach him, he had dived backwards off the mezzanine and down into the chasm below.

And then a moment later re-appeared, rising with arms stretched out in the air like a bird, and landed behind a tall stretch of structure a few dozen yards directly ahead of Voldemort's mezzanine.

"Very good, Harry. You really should have become my ally. But it's far too late for that now. _Contortus!_"

A flash of green light flew out of the end of Voldemort's wand and seemed to curl like a rope through the air. With horror, Harry realized Voldemort had used the same curse before on Dumbledore in the original room. He leapt like a monkey to different parts of the structure, trying to duck the curse but it followed him like a bolt of guided lightning, every now and then searing through the structure like an enormous saw. Moving more from instinct than design, Harry leapt back around in a circle leading his fire back in the direction of the mezzanine. Finally, he leapt clear across the edge and flew erratically through the air straight toward the control area himself. Voldemort looked across at him in alarm but he continued to keep his hold on his wand. Harry cannoned straight toward the control area as if he meant to slam his head straight into its side, but at the very last second, he let himself fall.

"NO!!" screamed Voldemort.

From somewhere above him, Harry could hear a loud explosion. He forced himself to steady his fall before it picked up too much momentum and then guided himself back away to rest on another part of the platform again. When he looked up he could see that the angle of Voldemort's hex had carried it straight into the control panel, warping it completely in two. The panel and an enormous metal chunk of the mezzanine area fell clear away from the wall and straight down into the chasm below. For a heart-stopping moment, Harry wondered if Voldemort might have fallen down with it, but a moment later, he could see that the deformed body of Draco Malfoy still stood precariously on a tiny piece of the mezzanine that remained.

Harry tensed his hand on his wand but waited. An instant later, an enormous explosion bellowed up from the bowels of the chasm as the mezzanine and controls crashed to the ground. A knot of sizzling blue light exploded upward from the surface. Harry watched as Voldemort looked down toward it in apparent alarm and then raised his wand to strike.

"_Dissectum!" _he cried.

Voldemort ducked as an enormous hole exploded in the rock just underneath his feet. Harry started to watch him fall but then the sizzling blue energy accelerated up to where he was standing.

"_Protego!" _

An orange light enveloped Harry just as the blue energy hurtled upwards, slicing through the structure above him as it did so. An avalanche of its brittle branches cascaded down around Harry. They bounced off his disarming charm but a large chunk hit the narrow stretch of structure on which he was standing and it gave way below his feet. Harry was forced to let go of the blocking charm but managed to halt his fall and glide to a branch of the structure that remained intact.

As soon as he had done so, Harry looked back across to the wall where Voldemort had been standing. The mezzanine and most of the rock behind it had been obliterated completely and the Dark Lord was nowhere to be seen. Was that it? Had he fallen? Harry could see that Voldemort had not yet regained the impressive power to fly that he shown in his battle with Dumbledore in the original room the year before. Yet could it really have been that easy? Was he really -

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry leapt off the branch just as a flash of green light skimmed a half an inch away from his left shoulder. He glided to one of the largest chunks of structure still remaining, deeper away from the walls and into the maze, and flattened himself behind it.

There was no other sound. But Voldemort had been somewhere very nearby. If he could just take a quick peek around -

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry ducked behind the structure again as the curse whizzed past the spot where his head had just been but, in that instant, he had managed to spot Voldemort standing on a stable swath of structure about a dozen feet above him. He paused and held onto his wand, his heart racing fast.

"Very good, Harry," came Malfoy's voice. "Your magical abilities have progressed far beyond what I had envisioned. Dumbledore taught you well. Or perhaps it was your godfather, Merlin rest his soul. But for your enviable power of flight you seem to be missing the simpler skill of short-distance Apparition. A pity they didn't spend more time teaching it to you."

Harry's heart sank. So that's how Voldemort had escaped his fall. Wasn't there an anti-Disapparation hex though? Something Dumbledore had used on Voldemort in the original room the year before. Harry struggled to recall it but his mind clouded over in confusion once again. Still, it didn't matter, he decided. There was still one way he could stop Voldemort and now was his best chance.

Harry clutched onto his wand tightly and leapt out away from his hiding place. He heard Voldemort's curse but he knew he was moving too fast to be an effective target. The flash of green had barely surged past him when Harry swung around toward Voldemort, still gliding quickly through the air as he did so. A branch of structure moved rapidly between them but then the path was clear. Voldemort raised his wand again but this time Harry was quicker. Fighting to keep his balance in the air, Harry pointed his wand at the Dark Lord.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _he shrieked.

Harry lost his balance completely and cannoned down painfully into another branch of the structure, but the instant before he did, he saw his curse connect into Voldemort's shoulder. Ignoring a fresh surge of pain in his back and his side as he hit and then slid down the slippery branch, Harry wrapped his arms and legs around the structure and held on tightly until he stopped falling. Only then did he look up, praying that he'd finally dealt the Dark Lord a mortal blow.

But there he was still standing on the same branch, not even so much as losing his balance.

Harry felt himself start to fall again but then used his feet to push away from the branch and glide ahead to another. This one was much thinner though and Harry stood uncomfortably exposed as Voldemort looked down at him and laughed.

"Did you really think you had the magic to kill me, Harry? You know, when we started this fight, I really thought you might have. You've always been so fast to anger, Harry, but so slow to hate. You didn't hate when your parents died, not even when your godfather was killed. And you don't even hate me now, not even after I got rid of your horrid little brat of a girlfriend, not the kind of hate you really need to kill. I can read your mind like a book, Harry; you never learned to block me. If all you can feel is love then you'll never defeat me. Love cannot kill; love cannot even hurt. Love is weak, Harry. Love will never stop me; I will only stop - "

There was a sharp popping sound. Harry whirled his head around, alarmed.

" - it."

Voldemort Apparated ten feet in front of Harry. He raised his wand. Harry ducked instinctively to avoid the Killing Curse he was sure would follow but Voldemort aimed his wand a large knot of structure right above them.

"_Dissectum!"_

There was another popping noise as Voldemort Disapparated again. Two enormous log-like pieces of the structure broke off and fell down toward Harry who remained standing on the branch. He got to his feet and raised his wand to throw up another blocking charm but his back and hip resisted the sudden movement. Harry lost his balance on the slippery surface and fell back onto the branch. His wand fell out of his hand and tumbled down into the chasm below. Harry could do nothing but watch as the two logs cannoned into his legs and pinned him onto the branch.

A loud involuntary shriek exploded from Harry's throat. Pain like he had never known ran up and down his legs. He knew at once that both of them were broken. He tried to move his feet but couldn't. The branch beneath him began to crack and give; the two pieces of structure fell off and tumbled down into the chasm; all Harry could do was hang on tightly to the branch with his arms as his legs dangled uselessly below him.

There was another popping sound. Voldemort Apparated right in front of Harry but toward the thicker part of the branch. His added weight sent another ominous splintering noise down its length.

"Pardon me for sharing your small little space, Harry," Voldemort cooed, a horrible gleam in his one good eye. "I had to get as close as I could, you know: you've developed quite a knack for ducking out of my way. But don't worry; should the branch break off altogether, I can simply Disapparate somewhere else. A bit beyond your own abilities but you can always fly. Oh, my apologies, again. Without the use of your legs to steady you, that might prove impossible. And, oh, yes, you seem to have lost your wand."

The smile disappeared.

"You're such a useless, pathetic creature. I still marvel at the length of your borrowed time in this world and the amount of trouble you have managed to cause me. I don't really expect you to beg for your life, Harry. Your father and mother didn't. But at least they feared me. All you can do is think of your pathetic little family standing before you smiling their condolences."

Voldemort stepped even closer to Harry, as though doing so would take him even further into his thoughts.

"And now what do I see?" he went on mockingly. "Dumbledore cursing me in the original room. No, you're not like him, are you? And now - oh, even better. The sorry little school I put you in. Kicking around a ball in some stupid Muggle game with the mudbloods. So be it then." Voldemort smiled maliciously. "It was a beautiful prison, wasn't it?"

Voldemort took out his wand and stabbed it into Harry's forehead, right onto his scar. His eye lit up with a feverish glee.

"Farewell, Harry P - "

Harry let out an enormous gurgling cry, then pushed hard onto the branch with his hands. He cartwheeled his broken legs back behind him through the air and planted a scissor kick straight into Voldemort's chest. The face of Draco Malfoy twisted for a moment in shock then Voldemort fell backwards hard onto the branch. He lost his grip on his wand and it began to fall down into the chasm but before it could do so, Harry reached out dangerously with his left hand and grabbed hold of it. Voldemort shook off his shock and lunged for it but his quick forward motion left him dangerously off-balance. Harry placed his right hand onto Voldemort's chest and then shoved out and away toward the thin part of the branch. He then quickly used both of his hands to move himself further back to the thicker part where Voldemort had stood a moment before. Before the Dark Lord had time to react again, Harry pointed the wand at him and cried out:

"_Disapparatus Impedimenta!"_

He didn't know if Dumbledore's curse would work for him; he wasn't even sure he'd remembered it correctly. Then the horrified expression on Voldemort's face made it absolutely clear that he had.

There was another snapping sound. The branch began to give way under Voldemort's arms.

"P - P - Potter," he spluttered, his face masked in fear. "H - Harry, Harry, listen to me. I wanted - I - I wanted to bring them all back. _I wanted to bring them all back! _Your parents, Harry! I can - I can bring them to life again. _Ginny!_ I can bring back Ginny to you, Harry. I can make them all come back; _just don't let me die_!"

The branch snapped again.

"H - Harry, please!"

Voldemort reached out a hand toward him.

"H - H - Harry! Don't let me die! I - I _can't _die! I am Lord Voldemort. I _cannot _die. I cannot - _P - P - Potter_."

"Oh, I shouldn't worry," said Harry quietly. "It might be quick; it might even be painless. I wouldn't know; I have never died."

The end of the branch snapped completely away. One last terrible scream flew out of the mouth of the Dark Wizard before he fell quickly down into the chasm below. Harry's eyes stung from the horrible pain in his legs but he managed to watch the final flight of Lord Voldemort, all the magic he once could have used to stop himself now finally beyond his grasp. He had almost cleared the structure completely but at the last moment, he was unable to break his fall and his neck collided with a large jagged piece. It sliced clear away from its body and then both parts of the last of Lord Voldemort's many mortal forms continued to fall down into the darkness.

There was another lurch. The part of the branch on which Harry was sitting had started to give way. He began to fall but at the last moment, he managed to grab onto the remaining piece further up that continued to hang away from the larger trunk.

And there he dangled with only his arms to support him - just as he would remember so vividly all those many years later.

The structure dug its way painfully into his fingers. In his mind's eye, Harry wondered how much longer he should wait. He needed to be sure that Dumbledore's curse of the year before had worked and that Voldemort's soul would not rush out from Malfoy's body and return to terrorize them once again. Once Harry was sure that the soul of the Dark Lord was gone forever, he would know that his work was done. He could finally be free of the prophecy's burden.

And then he would let go. There was nothing and no one to stop him or blame him this time. He would fall. It would all be over very quickly. And then he would no longer be alone. There would be no need for his father to try and return Ginny to him. He would live together with her and all of those he loved beyond the gateway forever.

Harry was not sure how much time had passed. His arms began to tire and his legs remained in incredible pain. At first he did not trust his sense of time. He knew it had been several minutes before Voldemort's soul had erupted from his body in the original room the previous year. But when finally Harry became certain that more time than that had passed he began to believe that this time, it was really over.

And he could fall.

But just as Harry began to release his grip, there was a rumbling sound and a doorway crumbled out just above him. He watched frantically as two very familiar shapes rushed onto the branch just in front of them. He couldn't do this while they were still here. Why did they have to come in to interfere? Why couldn't they just stay away? If only they wouldn't look down to see -

"Harry!" cried Ron frantically, tiptoeing dangerously across the structure like he was balancing on the branches of a high tree.

"No, Ron, go away! It's too dangerous."

"Don't talk rubbish! We're going to get you out of here!"

Harry groaned as he saw that Hermione had followed Ron. She managed to steer herself to his other side and both of them held out their hands.

"You won't be able to keep your balance after you pull me up!" Harry said. "Just let me go! Rescue yourselves!"

"No, Harry!" said Hermione frantically. "We're going to get you out of here! It's over, isn't it? Voldemort - "

"Yes, I killed him. Isn't that what you all wanted? NOW LET ME GO!"

"Harry, what the devil's wrong with you?" said Ron. "GET HOLD OF MY HAND!"

"You don't understand!" Harry shouted back. "I've seen them. I've seen all of them. I just want to be with them. I did what everyone wanted now let me go!"

"Harry, you know we won't do that!"

Hermione reached dangerously over to take hold of Harry's shoulder and tried to pull him up by force but Harry yanked it back.

"You don't know what's happened! If you did, you'd know why I have to let go! Before Voldemort - before he died, he _killed Ginny!"_

Harry watched as all the color fled from Ron's cheeks. Yet without hesitation, he reached out his hand and pulled Harry's right shoulder toward him, reaching precariously out over the branch as he did so.

"LET ME GO!" shouted Harry.

"Not a chance!" replied Hermione firmly, reaching over and taking hold of his other shoulder. "Come on; we're leaving."

There was another loud crack. The part of the branch on which Hermione and Ron were standing began to fracture.

"If you don't go now, we're _all _going to fall!" Harry insisted.

"Then we'll die together with you!" Ron retorted, "but we're not leaving you here."

Ron and Hermione pulled Harry to his feet. He tested one foot gingerly on the branch and then yelped in pain.

"You might at least know that Voldemort broke both my legs."

"Come on," said Hermione, more to Ron than to Harry. "We'll have to carry him out."

Harry groaned but did not resist. It was obvious to him that they weren't going to leave without him; the only way he was going to make sure they were safe was by letting them take him out together with them.

Hermione and Ron awkwardly held onto Harry's shoulders and dangled his feet over the branches as they walked. Hoisting him up over the first branch proved the hardest part. After they had made it to the branch where Ron and Hermione had entered, it was only a level walk out to the passageway.

But even this was much harder than it looked. The surface was extremely slippery. Explosions continued to erupt around them and bits of roof and structure rained down on them as they walked. Once Hermione almost completely lost her balance, but after pirouetting in the air for a heart-stopping moment, she managed to regain her footing. Their combined weight sent ominous cracking noises down the length of the narrow branch as they walked on. They were barely meters from the end when a very large cracking noise resounded behind them. Harry turned back in horror to discover that the structure had split right down the center of its main artery. The two remaining parts were peeling away from each other like the skin of a banana. The section on which Hermione, Harry, and Ron stood curved violently to their left. The brittle end smashed up against an uneven stretch of rock on one of the jagged holes in the cavern wall. The section of the branch that began just inches away from Ron's foot broke off completely at the end. They continued to swing around until finally several of the thicker branches of the structure collided against one another and wedged in the branch on which they were standing. The movement finally stopped.

"Merlin's breath!" cried Ron. "What are we going to do - _aah!_"

The branch pitched suddenly. Hermione and Ron lost their grip on Harry and all three slid away from its slippery surface. Each managed to wrap their elbows around the side of the branch as it tilted, however, just as Harry had held onto the ridge when Ginny's soul had first started to collapse the structure. They paused for a breathless moment, wondering if anything else was going to move, then Harry glanced cautiously over to find that a twenty-meter gap now separated them from the alcove above that led out into the passageway.

"Any ideas?" said Hermione, panting.

"Bloody hell," said Ron. "If _you_ don't know a spell that can get us out of this, then we're really done for!"

But Harry had taken out his wand and pointed it at Ron.

"Just try to roll and break your fall."

"What?"

"I'm going to levitate you into the alcove."

"Hang on a minute! Are you sure that thing still works?"

"Of course," said Harry, smiling wryly. "It belonged to Voldemort. _Levitatus!"_

Ron's eyes widened as the charm caught him just above his stomach. He hurtled upward through the air and then disappeared from sight into the alcove opening.

"You next, Hermione."

Hermione looked back at him, alarmed.

"It's just like netball, you know."

"Are you sure you're not going to catch the rim, though?"

"Certain."

"If you're thinking of letting yourself fall after I'm gone, Harry, I'm going to jump in after you; that's a bloody promise."

"Yeah," said Harry, a little ruefully. "I thought you'd say something like that. _Levitatus!"_

Hermione screamed as she shot through the air after Ron and fell straight through into the alcove after him. Frightened he would change his mind if he stopped to think, Harry pointed the wand at himself and delivered the same command. He felt himself fly high through the air, ducking a bit to the right as large bits of stone from the roof glanced past him. He shot through the opening of the alcove where Hermione and Ron were dusting themselves off and getting slowly to their feet and narrowly missed them to land hard on the stone floor, letting out a scream of agony.

"Harry, are you all right?" cried Hermione.

A much louder explosion resounded in the cavern. Most of the remaining structure collapsed and fell away. Cracks began to appear in the ceiling above them and bits of dust and rock fell down around their heads.

"Just get - get us out of here!" winced Harry.

"Come on, we'll float him along!" said Hermione. "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

Hermione and Ron guided Harry along ahead of them with their wands as fast as they dared and trotted quickly up through the passageways back underneath the lake. The ground shook beneath their feet as though the memory of Lord Voldemort was determined not to let them leave. Hermione and Ron lost their balance two or three times but on each occasion, they managed to get themselves back up and continue to propel Harry toward the opening. They all coughed as the corridors began to fill quickly with dust and smoke from the falling debris. They finally reached the upwards winding staircase just as a pile of rock cascaded down into the corridor behind them, sealing away completely the passageways to the cavern. Lifting Harry up the steps was no easy task, but slowly they made their way until finally they could see light, and a familiar pair of eyes looking down at them.

"There they are!" cried Lavender.

"Bloody hell, it's Harry!" cried Dean.

"He's broken his legs!" Hermione shot up. "Get away from the opening! We've got to get him out!"

Dean and Lavender did as they were told. All five Gryffindors emerged onto the meadow. The others were nowhere to be seen.

"Where is everyone?" asked Ron.

"Dennis, Colin, and Justin have only just led them around the lake," Dean explained. "As soon as the ground started to rumble, we figured we'd better get moving."

"Then why didn't you go with them?" Hermione demanded.

"Well, I thought that would have been obvious," Lavender replied with a bossy tone. "We were waiting for you!"

"That was a bit stupid of you," retorted Hermione, but she failed to stop a smile from breaking out on her face.

"Snape?" Dean asked.

Hermione looked down to the ground, bit her lip, and shook her head.

"Ginny?"

Dean looked at Ron, and his old roommate met his gaze, but he didn't respond. Hermione walked straight up toward Dean, took hold of his shoulders, and with a pleading look in her eyes, pointed him in the direction of the south side of the lake.

"Come on," she said. "We've got to get out of here."

The ground started to shake beneath their feet. Hermione, Ron, Dean, and Lavender struggled to keep their balance as all four kept their wands trained on Harry, floating him along ahead of them. Hermione wasn't even sure he was still conscious. She took a quick look to the lake on her left at roughly the spot where she and Ron had emerged from the water mere hours before. Ominous ripples were bubbling on its surface as though something was preparing to break up through the surface.

They continued to trudge around the perimeter of the lake every now and then tripping over roots from trees that had grown partly into the water. Despite having to levitate Harry out ahead of them, they soon caught up to the others whose progress seemed to be slowed as the nuns tiptoed slowly forward to avoid getting too wet.

"Bloody hell," said Ron, turning around to see that the ripples of water emanating from the center of the lake had started to turn into waves. "Can't they go any faster?"

Hermione motioned to Ron, Dean, and Lavender to take care of Harry and ran quickly on ahead, deliberately splashing water on the nuns as she did so.

"Do you mind, Miss Granger?" said Sister Lewis, turning around. "This is a very expensive - "

"Sister Lewis," said Hermione. She put her arm around the nun's shoulder and pointed out toward the center of the lake. "One of Satan's very good friends is coming out to visit us. If you'd rather not meet him, I suggest you move on a little bit _faster!"_

She pushed Sister Lewis in the back. The nun tutted her disapproval but on looking properly at the gathering tempest in the lake, she began to run forward as fast as she could. To Hermione's relief, her pace was soon matched by the others.

The strange army of nuns, guards, Muggle children, and Muggle-born Hogwarts students wound their way quickly around the side of the lake and up toward the south side as Snape had instructed. They had almost reached it when they became aware that they weren't alone. Two enormous beings Hermione had mistaken for tall tree stumps were standing at the edge of the water. Next to them were three very familiar wizards. One of the giants was pushing his foot out in front of them as though struggling to break through an invisible barrier. Hermione had no sooner registered this when a horrible high-pitched noise resounded out from the center of the lake. A sharp fork of orange lightning moved improbably upwards from the surface of the water and spread out into the sky in all directions. The instant it had passed over their heads the giant seemed to find itself pushing on air, lost its balance, and tumbled straight into the water. An enormous splash erupted from the spot and showered the oncoming group.

Sister Lewis moaned.

"The barrier's down!" cried Ron.

"Oi!" a familiar voice cried out. "Ron! Hermione!"

"Hagrid!" Hermione cried. She ran ahead, bounded over a low-lying branch, and found her way into the bone-crushing arms of the half-giant.

"Blimey," he said as he let her go, tears running down his enormous cheeks. "I never thought I'd see yeh alive again! An' Ron! _An' Harry! _Blimey, what's happened? Who are all these people?"

"Hagrid, I think the explanations can wait until later," said Dumbledore, looking very worried. "We'd better get everyone out of here. I have some very nasty suspicions about what might happen next. Can we use Grawp and Fump to clear the way?"

"Right. Grawp!" Hagrid called out toward the giant in the water. "What are yeh playin' at? Get yehself out o' there and clear a path feh these people!"

Grawp drew himself up to full height. Sister Lewis took a rosary out of her pocket and began muttering prayers to herself. Grawp and Fump moved out in front of them and began to knock a wider path of trees to one side as though they were only tall blades of grass. The others quickly climbed up to follow them but the path was still treacherous. The older Muggle-born students let the younger children pass first and then brought up the rear. Ron, Hermione, Dean, and Lavender were last and levitated Harry out in front of them. They had almost reached the crest of the hill when Hermione heard an enormous explosion behind her. She looked backward to find a wall of water more than fifteen meters high and the width of the lake wide moving quickly toward them.

"Merlin!" she exclaimed. "Keep moving!"

The party quickened their footsteps. The guards ran ahead, half-climbing on top of the children as they struggled to save their own skins. The nuns began to cry out. One or two of them fell but they managed to pick themselves back up again. There was another enormous crash as the wave pounded into the bottom of the hill, then rose up to meet them like a malevolent spirit. They were high enough up to escape most of its force but the crest of the wave still showered their ankles with water, then rolled back down into the lake taking several fallen trees with it. Hermione slipped and fell hard as a log rolled into her ankles. She looked back to see that the others were falling, too. With sudden horror, she realized they had lost their grip on Harry and that he was falling painfully and helplessly back down the hill, propelled by a mini-landslide of falling rocks. He seemed to have regained consciousness and he was using his hands to try and support himself again but he couldn't find a grip. He began to pick up speed. Hermione felt certain he would fall all the way back down the hill to the surface of the lake but then one of the logs wedged itself into a clutter of debris and Harry fell painfully up against it.

"I'm going down to get him!"

"Ron, be careful! Ron, _look out!"_

But Ron had already started to clamber awkwardly down the side of the hill. He could hear Hermione screaming behind him and looked up to see a fresh wave racing toward them but he kept moving until he had reached Harry's prone form.

"Come on, mate," he said. "Hold onto my shoulders."

"Ron, no!" cried Harry, wincing in pain. "Get yourself out of here! You'll be crushed!"

"No chance, mate. Now come - "

"Don't you understand?" Harry cried, a pitiful look in his eyes. "I killed her, Ron. And now I just want to be with her. I don't want to be alone. I can't - "

"No, Harry, I don't understand. _Now come on!"_

Ron heaved Harry to his feet and pulled his arm over his shoulder. He could hear the water rushing up behind them. He looked back up the hill to see that Hermione, Lavender, and Dean - and even that horrible cow of a nun - were beckoning him on. Harry seemed to be trying to help him, but he couldn't put any force at all onto his legs. Ron hoisted both of their weights over the slippery fallen logs. He could hear the water rushing up behind him like the sound of ten trains racing up a track. He hoisted Harry over another log, then moved his leg forward. The sound continued to grow. Ron didn't want to look back. Hermione kept screaming and then -

Ron felt as though a dozen bluggers had struck him square in the back. The force of the water threw him to his knees and he felt his whole body go completely underwater. He reached out blindly and managed to find Harry's arm. Then the water began to rush back. Ron lowered his head as he felt pieces of wood and earth roll down the hill and into his body but still he kept his grip on Harry. He was heartened to find that his best friend in the world was holding on just as tightly. Then Ron felt his feet starting to slip out from underneath him. He tried to gain a grip but the force of the water pushing them back toward the lake was far too strong. An enormous log was rolling down with the water fast toward them; it was inches away from Ron's head; he closed his eyes.

And then found himself flying up out of the water and high into the sky. He looked back to see he was still holding onto to Harry's arm but that Harry wasn't pulling him down anymore. He looked down to see water and logs crashing quickly back down the hill below him, then ahead to find Dumbledore pointing his wand toward them and Hermione jumping up and down next to him screaming instructions. Dumbledore guided them up and over the watery devastation and onto the safe, dry land on the now deforested peak of the hill.

As soon as they had landed, Hermione helped Ron take hold of Harry's other shoulder.

"Are you all right?" she said.

"Yeah - yeah, I'll, er, well, you know - "

"Honestly, Ron, you look as though someone tried to transfigure you into a tree and very nearly succeeded!"

"Harry, are you - " Ron began.

"I'll live," croaked Harry, coughing. "For better or worse."

"What happened to - "

Ron turned around. What had once been the population of St. Brutus's School for Criminally Incurable Girls and Boys were slowly making their way to the peak. Waves of water continued to smash into the bottom of the hill, but that was now much further below them. As Ron watched, the waves grew gradually smaller. The ground was no longer rumbling, either, but not all remained the same. Looking out to the middle of the lake, Ron could see that directly over the area where Voldemort's underground base had once stood, there was now a small island. And on top of that island, though distant and faint, Ron could just about make out a small stone archway below which hung a tattered veil.


	27. A Way Home

**Chapter 27**

**The Girl Who Lived**

Dumbledore cleared his throat very softly.

"Did you hear me, Harry?" he said.

"I'm listening," said Harry flatly. He did not look up.

"Very well, then," said Dumbledore. He cleared his throat lightly. "As I said, I'm sorry I didn't see you earlier. As I'm sure you've probably heard, they've made me acting Minister of Magic, a title I hope to dispense with at the earliest convenience. It is not yet known to the general public but Cornelius Fudge was found dead in his home yesterday evening from an apparently self-inflicted Killing Curse. I think that, under the circumstances, the return of his memories and the realization of what he had done - and not done - proved a little too much for him. I shall try to remember his good points."

Dumbledore cleared his throat again.

"The memories of the Muggles have now, of course, been modified, and we have managed to return them to their proper places. Once Voldemort's base was destroyed and the magic of the Memory Charms shattered, the Goblin Federation declared an immediate surrender. No doubt many will try to force conditions on that surrender. I, however, will make it my first act as Minister to sign it without condition. I do not think that anyone should be held responsible for anything they did while under the influence of Voldemort's magic. My next order of business will be the destruction of the gateway: we must make certain that no one is tempted to follow in Voldemort's footsteps as I think you'll agree. And then there's the matter..."

Harry found himself drifting off again into welcome inattention. He supposed that, at one point, he might have been pleased that Dumbledore was privileging him with so much inside information, even if most of it had already been shared with the re-assembled members of the Order of the Phoenix. But now he could care less about that or anything else. All he wanted to do was think about Ginny. And if she was now far away in another world, then he would be, too, in his mind.

It had been two days since they'd escaped from Voldemort's underground base in the Lake District. They had stood there watching the strange island that had formed itself at the center of the lake when several Ministry Aurors, Healers, and other assorted wizards and witches had Apparated into their midst. It had soon become apparent that with the destruction of Voldemort's underground world, the magic of the Memory Charms had become undone.

The Ministry itself, however, along with the rest of the Wizarding World, was still in the midst of disorientation and chaos. The motley group that had successfully reached the top of the hill overlooking the lake had been quickly Portkeyed to St. Mungo's which was full to overflowing. Harry vaguely remembered waiting with Ron and Hermione to see a Healer when the world had started to spin all around him. He'd heard Hermione crying out something about him being in shock. The next thing he remembered it was the next day and he was lying in a hospital bed.

The healers had wanted him to stay, of course, but Hermione and Ron had been given a clean bill of health and Harry had insisted on leaving with his friends. They were the only ones he was willing to talk to, in fact; he was certain that only they could even begin to imagine what had happened to him down in the cavern.

The Weasleys had all been there, of course, and that was what had made Harry want to leave more than anything else. Mrs. Weasley had tried to smile and fuss all over him but she'd broke down in tears every half second. Mr. Weasley had looked as though he was a living, walking ghost. Harry had only got away with the promise that he would go straight to the Burrow as soon as he, Ron, and Hermione were finished at Hogwarts, a promise he instantly regretted. The truth was that he didn't want to face them. He didn't want to face anyone right now, of course - but least of all them. It was obvious they already knew about Ginny; how could they not? But before long, he would have to tell them exactly what happened and he couldn't imagine how he was going to do that.

They had prepared the Hogwarts Express to return all of the students to Hogwarts for one day to pack up their things before returning home for the summer holidays, although rumor had it they would have to return after only a short break to make up their missed lessons during the summer holiday. Professor Lupin, who had also remained at Harry's bedside, had insisted on returning with them. He had also arranged for Ron, Hermione, Harry, and himself to share a private compartment on the train. Harry knew that Lupin was concerned for him but he didn't really want to talk to his former mentor either. More than anything else, he knew he couldn't begin to describe to him what and whom he had seen beyond the gateway. To his credit, however, Lupin had asked nothing and, in general, had said very little. He seemed to understand that Harry needed to keep his thoughts to himself for the time being.

There were reporters everywhere, of course. St. Mungo's. Platform nine and three-quarters. Rumor had it they had conjured a guesthouse in Hogsmeade, all in the hope of catching a glimpse of the Boy Who Lived whom it was already widely believed had returned to everyone their forgotten memories, not to mention slain Lord Voldemort for good. The Aurors had kept them away and they weren't allowed on the Hogwarts grounds at all, of course. But as soon as Harry caught sight of them or heard something about them, he felt a horrible feeling of nausea. He didn't want to be the hero; right now, he didn't even want to be one of them.

While Harry had gone quiet and sullen, Ron seemed to be dealing with things by talking and eating as much as he could. It annoyed Harry. It annoyed him a great deal. But he also knew that even though the last thing he would do was mention Ginny in front of him, Ron was hurting a great deal himself. Hermione tried to smile and listen but Harry had not missed the furtive and slightly fearful looks she had given the pair of them; it was as though she thought they were two components of a volatile potion that, when mixed, would explode in her face.

Ron's chief topic of conversation on the train had been the nasty shock Harry and Hermione were in for when they arrived at Hogwarts. When they finally did make their way in the thestral-driven carriages up to the castle, it turned out to be Ron who was in for the shock. The school remained standing exactly as Harry had always remembered it. Ron continued to explain how it had been burned to a crisp even as they walked through the front doors. If the circumstances had been very much different, Harry might have found the whole thing somewhat amusing.

But they weren't and he didn't. And he wouldn't have been impressed if Dumbledore had re-conjured all of Scotland. He already knew that he could never bring back one short, freckle-faced, red-haired girl.

Things seemed all in confusion once they arrived inside. Hermione had said she'd been told by Pansy that a dinner would be provided in the Great Hall but there was no word on when that would be. Rumor had it that they were waiting for Dumbledore to return from London where he'd been trying to sort out much of the chaos the Ministry was in. Everyone had seemed to want to talk to Harry but Hermione had shooed them all away and Lavender had been more than willing to entertain all listeners with lurid tales from St. Brutus's. Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity of waiting, a tawny owl had flown in through an open window with a summons for Harry from the headmaster.

Harry hadn't wanted to talk to Dumbledore at all, but he'd known it would be coming. He had sat down at one end of Dumbledore's desk and the headmaster asked Harry gently to tell him everything that had happened from the moment he and Hermione had first entered Voldemort's base.

In truth, Harry hadn't wanted to tell Dumbledore anything but, once again, he hadn't cared enough to fight him, and so he had monotonously described the horrible events in the cavern down to every last detail. Dumbledore had not interrupted him but had merely sat with his fingers in the shape of a triangle listening to the details. The only question he'd asked had concerned the manner of Voldemort's death, and then he had seemed satisfied with Harry's explanation.

And so now Dumbledore had gone off into a long explanation which Harry was certain amounted to nothing more than wizard politics he had no wish to be a part of. His attention was only drawn back to the headmaster when he heard him call his name more than once in quick succession.

"What?" asked Harry impolitely, his head rising up from the table.

"I asked whether you would at least consider my offer."

"Oh - actually, I don't think I was paying attention," said Harry laconically. "But whatever it is, I'm not interested."

There was a pause in the conversation. Dumbledore sighed and looked down at his desk. Harry immediately looked away. He didn't want to see the sad expression in the old man's eyes and be tempted, even in the slightest, to believe it was sincere.

"Harry, I'm sorry about Ginny," Dumbledore finally said.

"You're not sorry."

"You think I used you all these years."

"That's about the long and short of it, yes."

"I expect you want to destroy my possessions again."

"I don't want to destroy anything. I'm not a child anymore. I just don't want to talk to you. Is that allowed?"

Dumbledore sighed again. "Harry, I know what you're feeling."

"You don't know."

"Are you sure about that, Harry? Are you _very _sure?"

Something in Dumbledore's tone of voice made Harry look up from the desk for the first time. There was a sudden edge to his words, an edge that reminded Harry of the way that he himself had been talking a moment before. And when he met the old man's eyes, he almost imagined he could see the dangerous glare of a very powerful wizard who had once been very much aggrieved, but the expression vanished almost immediately and the headmaster once again appeared a little old and sad.

"For what it's worth, I believe you might be right, Harry. I fancy I did use you. I didn't think so all along; truly I didn't, but now I'm not so sure. Before she died, Ginny reminded me of something, something very important, something I had once known but had allowed myself to forget: the end does not justify the means, Harry; not ever. Whatever one sacrifices only grows to be twice as worse as the threat one thought he was facing in the first place. And that's why I have to leave."

"What?"

Harry found himself feeling very non-plussed, but then instantly regretted having fallen into what he was certain was another of Dumbledore's manipulative webs.

"I'm leaving, Harry," said Dumbledore, sounding tired again. "I am resigning as Headmaster of Hogwarts. Within the hour, there will be a dinner in the Great Hall and I will make a general announcement to all the students and staff. I wanted to tell you first, though, Harry. I felt that you deserved that much."

"S - so you're finally going to be Minister of Magic," said Harry, still looking at Dumbledore suspiciously.

"No, Harry." Dumbledore smiled for the first time. "Then I'm afraid I might make things even worse. No, I'm going to take on another rather more important position, but one simple enough that I daresay I'll manage it. You might consider it a form of retirement, though under present circumstances, I suppose you could say it was the most important position in all the Wizarding World."

Harry was now completely baffled, and mostly convinced that Dumbledore was leading him on a long tangent aimed at easing his resentment.

"I don't understand, sir," he said, a little shortly.

In response, Dumbledore rose from his chair and walked over to the corner of the office. Harry was surprised to see that the Mirror of Erised still stood there in an enlarged alcove. Harry wasn't sure whether it had been there all this time or whether it had been destroyed in the fire that had gutted Hogwarts and somehow been restored like everything else. It was only now that Harry remembered first seeing it there the night he and Ginny had come to ask Dumbledore to finally tell them the truth about the mysterious Professor Janus, little comprehending the final price of their curiosity.

"I had been preparing for this ever since the first day Sirius walked into my office. Even then, I suspected that even if we could eventually stop Voldemort, his meddling with forces he did not understand would forever realign the most fragile yet basic balance of all - that between life and death."

"But what's that got to do with the Mirror of Erised?"

"I plan to capture some of its properties - as a protection, Harry. As a kind of shield."

"A protection for what?"

"Harry, do you know what is on that island that rose up from the middle of the lake?"

"Well... the gateway's there. I saw it."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, but that is not all. There are things on that island that don't belong on our world but that now exist permanently within it. I must make sure that they do not fall into the wrong hands. That will be my job."

"What - what sorts of things?"

"Forces, Harry. Energies. Things from beyond the gateway. In order to ensure their safekeeping, it will be necessary for me to live out my remaining years on the island. I daresay it may also have some restorative properties, though it won't completely postpone the inevitable. As my powers are limited, I shall need a little help and that is where the Mirror will come in." Dumbledore ran his fingers almost affectionately around the gold rim at its side. "As soon as I have finished uncovering enough of its magical secrets, I plan to charm the water of the lake to reflect its properties."

Harry frowned. "You mean," he started. "You mean that the entire lake will act like one giant Mirror of Erised?"

Dumbledore smiled. "More or less."

"And so - and so anyone who looks into the lake will see exactly what they desire? And then they won't want to go any further?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Like flies to the ointment. Whoever desires the island's power will be precisely the sort of person who'll never want to leave the side of the lake. Only one who desires nothing that he does not already possess will be able to pass. I think you'll agree I have very little to fear from someone such as that. And that's where you come in, Harry."

"Me?"

"Yes, Harry. I'd like you to be my Secret-Keeper."

"I - I - _me? _But I'm not - I - why would you choose _me_? Surely someone from the Order - "

"Precisely the sort of person who would be most likely to distract me from my task with well-intentioned but nonetheless distracting requests for help with whatever trouble the future may bring."

"But you don't think I would come to bother you?"

Dumbledore smiled. "No, I don't, Harry. Not unless it was truly important, that is. You understand what it feels like, Harry. You most of all."

Harry looked at Dumbledore for a moment. He _did _understand, though he was surprised that Dumbledore knew it. But there was one thing he was sure he wouldn't be able to do.

"I don't think I would ever make it across that lake," he said darkly. "I don't think I would ever want to leave what I saw in its surface."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you, Harry."

Harry looked down again. He felt his anger at Dumbledore begin to boil once more. The office suddenly seemed very claustrophobic and he wanted very much to get away back to his friends. No, not back to his friends, he suddenly decided. Just alone somewhere with only his thoughts for companionship.

"So that was your offer, sir?" he said, a little gruffly.

"Oh, dear, Harry, not entirely. You really didn't hear anything I said, did you?"

"I suppose I must have been a little preoccupied."

Harry made sure Dumbledore could hear the bite in his tone but the headmaster made an infuriating, if predictable show of not taking the slightest notice.

"The unfortunate events of the last year have left Hogwarts with a number of vacancies," he ploughed on. "I daresay Professor McGonagall will fully recover from her experience in Azkaban in time to take on the vacant position of Headmaster. Professor Harmon has already agreed to stay on as Potions Master and I will be advertising for an Astronomy Master to replace Professor Sinistra and a Transfiguration teacher to replace Professor McGonagall, but that still leaves us with the perennial question of who will take up the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Harry made sure Dumbledore heard him scoff. "You might as well just offer the position to Grubbly-Plank permanently. You won't get anyone else."

"_Professor _Grubbly-Plank, Harry. But I was rather hoping _you_ might be able to help."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore again, a little surprised in spite of himself.

"I don't know anyone who will take that job."

"Not anyone, Harry. You."

There was a moment of silence. Harry peered at Dumbledore.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"Of course, if you'd rather be an Auror, I'll understand. I've little doubt you'd make a very fine one."

But Harry shook his head and the way Dumbledore was looking at him, Harry could see that his rejection of the proposition didn't come as much of a surprise.

"I don't want to be an Auror anymore," he muttered, though he hadn't realized he'd felt that way until Dumbledore had asked. "I've seen - I've - it's all too much now."

Dumbledore nodded his understanding. "Then you'll consider my offer? I realize - "

"Wait, I - no! I mean - how could _I _be Defense Against the Dark Arts Master? I mean I - I haven't even finished my N.E.W.T.s."

"A formality which I hope you will complete along with the rest of your class at the end of the summer holidays."

"But - but even if - I mean, don't all Aurors have to go on for more years of schooling? And surely the Defense Against the Dark Arts Master can't just be someone - I mean, it's _mad_."

"Not the maddest thing I've done, I assure you," said Dumbledore, smiling very slightly. "I don't deny it's a little unprecedented. But you are far from an ordinary wizard, Harry, and I've little doubt that your appointment will be very well received by the staff, parents, and students alike."

"But I - "

Harry looked up at Dumbledore again. He suddenly realized he was out of excuses. He also realized that although he'd never really thought about it before, Dumbledore's offer now seemed to suit him exactly. He thought back to his days leading the Defense Association. He had been good at teaching, hadn't he? His small group of students had learned a lot and they had continued to return even in face of Umbridge's threats against "illegal" organizations. And he could see exactly how he was going to change the curriculum. No more of the textbook rubbish. Everything would be practice. And if he was a little uncertain to begin with, then surely Professor Lupin would only be an owl -

Harry's thoughts came to an abrupt halt. A sudden image of Ginny rose in his mind. Screaming in pain as Voldemort cursed her. Falling down onto the structure, her lifeless eyes looking up at him, deep and accusing. He felt suddenly ashamed at how quickly he had started to think of the future - a future without her - a future that really was no future at all. And he was even angrier at Dumbledore for manipulating him into forgetting her.

"No," he said abruptly. "I'm not interested."

Dumbledore frowned. Harry could see the false pain gathering in his eyes and he forced himself to look away before the headmaster could find another way to convince him it was real.

"Very well, Harry," he said. "It's your choice. Should you reconsider, however - "

"I'm not going to reconsider," said Harry brusquely.

"As you wish."

"Can I leave now?"

"Of course."

Harry got up from the desk and walked quickly toward the door. He was on the point of opening it when Dumbledore said:

"Harry, you should have faith in your father."

Harry turned back around and looked at the headmaster angrily.

"Who says I don't?" he asked spitefully.

"I see. Very well then, you should have faith in yourself."

Harry felt his anger start to rise very quickly.

"Why should I?" he demanded. "Didn't you listen to everything I told you? I killed her! I let her climb up that structure even though I knew she was going to die!"

"But if I remember what you've told me correctly, Harry, you turned around and went back after her."

"By then it was too late."

"_Did_ you know she was going to die, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry said, but not before hesitating a moment.

"Are you sure about that?" asked Dumbledore quietly.

"_Yes_! Isn't that what the prophecy said? I had to give up that which I value most and that was Ginny. I should have known it all along. She tried to tell me and she was right."

"Ah, but I suggest to you that the prophecy never meant Ginny at all."

"It said I had to give up whatever was most important to me. Who else could that have meant?"

"Not who, Harry. The prophecy said that whomever destroys the Dark Lord 'must let go of that from which he least wants to part.' I have watched you for many years, Harry, and I feel I can say I know you well enough to know that what you least wish to part from is your own ability to take control of the events around you. In that respect, you're not much different from most, and considering you've spent much of your life under the control of others, it's very understandable. But had you not initially agreed to let Ginny take some measure of what you normally keep to yourself, you could never have defeated Voldemort."

"Yeah, well, look where it got me."

"Harry," said Dumbledore gently. "If Ginny does return, then you'll have done for her what no one else ever did. By allowing her to face Voldemort on her own terms, you may not have saved her life, but you rescued her soul, part of which, I fear, had never quite returned from the Chamber of Secrets."

"Yeah, and that's a big if, isn't it?"

Harry didn't want to wait for Dumbledore's response. He turned the handle of the door and swiftly left the office.

"Harry!"

Harry quickened his footsteps. He knew exactly who was calling him and it was the last person in the world he wanted to talk to, and given present circumstances, that was saying something.

"Harry!"

Harry sighed and stopped walking. Perhaps it would be better just to get the whole thing over with. Just as long as he could pretend to listen and not actually have to say anything.

"Oh."

Luna seemed surprised that he had stopped to talk to her. She regarded him with a characteristically wide-eyed expression.

"Was there another Harry you were calling?" Harry finally said, a little impatiently.

"Oh, no. I expected you to put up more of a fight, that's all. I expect I wouldn't want to talk to anyone at all if I were you."

Then why do _you_ want to talk to me, Harry wanted to scream at her, but just as with his conversation with Dumbledore, he didn't feel he could really be bothered to muster the energy.

Luna still didn't say anything but continued to peer at him as though she could see through into someone else's face. Harry expected she was trying to figure whether he was really an alien in disguise. He wondered whether she would really notice if he slowly started to walk away when another thought occurred to him.

"S - so you got out of Azkaban?"

"Oh, yes," said Luna brightly. "We all got our memories back all of a sudden and then the guards seemed to know that we weren't really prisoners at all. Then the Ministry came and took us all back here; we've only just arrived. Some of the students are still in St. Mungo's, though."

"Is - is Neville all right?"

"Oh, yes, he's fine now. He did get all upset when we were in Azkaban, poor dear. He kept saying how he was beside himself with guilt for some crime or another he'd falsely believed he'd committed, but I kept telling him not to worry, that it was probably all a colonization plot by the aliens. After all, it doesn't stand to reason that Neville would hurt anyone, does it?"

Harry was annoyed to find that a small smile had reached his lips. "No, I suppose not."

"Harry, I wanted to tell you I'm really sorry about Ginny."

"Oh, er... yeah, thanks," Harry just about managed to mumble, any trace of smile fading from his lips. What was wrong with this girl? Didn't she even begin to understand how sensitive -

"I expect you think I'm being a bit forward saying this, Harry."

"Oh, er, no, no, I - "

"Of course you do. But I wanted to say it anyway. After all, it's how I feel. It's a bit stupid to go tiptoeing around people pretending not to talk about what's really on everyone's mind, isn't it?" Luna stopped and looked pensive. "Perhaps that's why everyone thinks I'm so loony. After all, that's not what _they_ think, is it? Or maybe I learned this from Ginny."

Harry had heard enough.

"I - I'm on my way to the Great Hall, actually, Luna, so if you don't mind - "

"Oh, is the dinner about to start then?"

"No, I mean yes. Yes, I think so. Quite soon."

"Oh, maybe I should go with you. No," Luna quickly added before Harry had said anything at all. "You want to be alone, don't you? No, please don't say anything. I understand. It isn't just me."

"Right," Harry mumbled. "So I'll just be - well, I'll - "

Harry didn't manage to finish his sentence before turning around and walking absently down one of the corridors that led near the staircase to Gryffindor Tower but in the opposite direction from the Great Hall. He hoped that, for once, Luna might summon the tact not to point it out.

"Harry, wait!"

Apparently not.

"I know," said Harry, turning around. "The Great Hall's - "

Harry suddenly stopped talking. Luna was looking at him very differently now. It took Harry a moment to realize that it was because she was finally looking straight at him instead of trying to peer at a point on the wall beyond his head. He had only just managed to register this when tears started to pool in Luna's eyes and run slowly down her cheeks. She made no move to wipe them away.

"I was wondering, you know," she said in a sort of croaky variation on her normally vacant and dreamlike way of talking. "You were beyond the veil, weren't you?"

Harry wasn't sure how Luna could have possibly known this, but he didn't stop to ask. He continued to stare at her dumbly.

"You don't have to say," she went on. "I just know you were; I can tell, you know. I - I just wanted to know - well, was my mother there?"

Harry tried to speak again but found that his throat had run very dry.

"I - I - I'm sorry, Luna," he finally managed, amidst a cough. "I didn't - I didn't see her but," he added quickly as Luna's face began to fall. "I'm - I'm sure she's there. I mean, she must be; they all are. I - I - it's just - not all of them were there, I mean, where I was. But they're all right now, Luna. Everyone there is all right."

And one day we'll be there with them, too, Harry thought, but he couldn't quite bring himself to say it.

"Oh, well, that's reassuring," said Luna, as though she had gotten over the whole thing immediately. "I expect you wouldn't want to talk about it but still, well, maybe, sometime, if you ever felt you were ready, that is, I - well, anyway, I'd better leave you alone then, Harry. I expect we'll see each other later on in the summer."

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, suddenly feeling a little numb. "I - we'll - yeah, I suppose."

But Luna had already turned around and walked away.

Harry then turned around to walk away himself, not really caring very much where he was going. He quickly decided that he didn't want to talk to anyone else, particularly not anyone like Dumbledore or Luna who was going to make him question how he felt and why. He wasn't going to the dinner, of course; he'd already heard the speech from Dumbledore. He was just going to -

"Harry, _there_ you are!"

A forceful arm pulled him behind a statue of Rowena Ravenclaw.

"Ron?"

"Listen, mate," said Ron in a whisper. "Hermione's gone down to the Great Hall already. I wanted to talk to you alone while we've got the chance. I don't think, well - look, I know you're worried about going back to the Burrow and I - "

"I'm not worried about - "

"Just hear me out, Harry, okay? You don't have to worry about anything. When we were at St. Mungo's, I talked to Mum and Dad and told them everything that happened. I made sure they knew the truth before - before - " Ron hesitated. "Look, Harry, _I _killed Ginny, not you. And now they know it."

Harry looked at Ron for a moment in total incredulity. Under almost any other circumstance, he wouldn't have been able to believe his best friend was serious, but his flushed cheeks and the intense, almost feverish look in his eyes left Harry with little doubt. He still didn't know what to say to him and for a long moment he remained silent. When he opened his mouth again, he seemed only able to muster one word.

"_What?"_

"I killed her, Harry. If it wasn't for me - if I hadn't - I never should have taken those owls from her. I should have told McGonagall right away. I don't know why I didn't trust McGonagall, Harry; she'd trusted me; Nevins trusted me, too; they all - " Ron broke off. "Well, it happened, didn't it? And Ginny got caught. Let's face it, Harry: she was as good as dead the minute the Death Eaters captured her."

"Ron, that's not true!" insisted Harry, finding his voice again. "We were both alive down there, and _I _survived. Hermione was with us, too, and _she _survived."

"Yeah, but Malfoy didn't want you and Hermione," said Ron, his face flushing an even deeper red. "The bastard wanted Ginny. And he got her."

"He wanted to kill us all, Ron! Ginny was alive down there and she would have stayed alive if I hadn't let her climb up that structure."

"It was just the two of you there, Harry. Bloody hell, he was about to blow up the world. What were you supposed to have done?"

"I could have stopped Voldemort," said Harry firmly. "I could have saved her. I _should_ have saved her!" he insisted. "I did it before! Why couldn't I - " A lump started to rise in his throat but he forced it back angrily. "I killed her Ron, okay? I appreciate you trying to stick up for me but it doesn't change the fact. _I killed your little sister, all right? _I loved her and I killed her. I don't know what's going to happen to us now but I'm not going to live a lie and neither should you. I - "

"Do you always have to be the bloody martyr, Harry? Is that what Dumbledore taught you? Or was it the Dursleys? That everything was always _your_ fault? Well, face it, Harry! This time it isn't about the Boy Who Lived. It's - "

"Is that what this is all about, Ron? Never mind being jealous about me being the hero, you even - "

Harry stopped himself.

"What, Harry?" demanded Ron, anger bleeding out of his eyes. "_What?"_

Harry sighed.

"Nothing," he said quietly. "Merlin, what an idiot I am." He put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "How many times have we had this conversation? How many times have I picked - Merlin, I - you saved my life, Ron, and you've always been my friend even - bloody hell, I thought you were dead, and now that you're alive, look at - "

Harry couldn't help himself any longer. Though it made him feel horribly ashamed of himself, tears started to run down his face followed by quiet, hesitant sobs.

Ron paused for a moment, then sighed himself.

"Harry, mate, look," he said. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean - " Ron stopped talking for a moment. "Just don't say anything to my Mum and Dad, okay?"

"I wasn't going to!"

Ron held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "OK, then let's - let's just forget about it, all right? I - I mean let's just forget we had this conversation, okay?"

Harry nodded, then quickly and forcefully wiped his tears away.

"Come on." Ron touched the side of Harry's arm. "Let's go to dinner. Hermione's probably waiting for us."

"I'm not going," said Harry flatly.

"You don't have to go like - you can clean yourself - Ginny taught me an anti- " Ron sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Gods, this is awful, isn't it?"

But Harry let the comment drop completely.

"I wasn't going anyway," he explained. "I - I - just don't want to. Tell Hermione I'm sorry, _please, _Ron? Just tell her - "

But Ron shook his head very firmly.

"If you don't go to this dinner, I'm not going to tell Hermione you're sorry. I'm going to tell her the truth: that you're a bloody git. Harry," he added quickly, before his best friend could parry with a rejoinder, "_we're_ - _your_ - _friends_. We've been through this before! We went through it after Sirius died, then at that bloody Guy Fawkes ball; we're just not - you can't just abandon us! Harry, Merlin knows what the odds were against us staying together like this - alive - at the end of our seven years here, with Voldemort gone. And you're going to throw it all away just so you can go off and wallow in self-pity somewhere?"

Harry didn't answer.

"Look, mate, you don't - you don't have to do this for me, but please do it for Hermione. You know she'll be worried and upset if you don't go. She told me what happened to you in that school. Gods, Harry, it's a good job Snape didn't come back because otherwise I think I might have killed him myself. You two went through a lot together there. And for a while, the only thing you had was each other. Are you going to forget about that now and pretend that she doesn't exist? That _I _don't exist?"

There was another long pause, then in a very tired voice Harry said:

"No."

The ghost of a smile flickered over Ron's face.

"Then come on," he said.

Apparently, word of the belated dinner had already been sent around the common rooms even while Harry was talking to Dumbledore. By the time he and Ron had approached the Great Hall, most of the students had already made their way in. Hermione was waiting for them at the door.

"There you are," she said. "I was beginning to think you two would never come."

Hermione's eyes told a different story than her words, however. Harry didn't fail to catch her momentary look of surprise and then relief at seeing him there together with Ron. It was enough to tell him that she had almost guessed at the conversation that had taken place between the two of them.

They joined behind the other students entering the hall. Harry could see that many of them, especially the younger ones, were staring at him, but fortunately no one said anything. Ron and Hermione walked protectively on either side of him, almost as though they were his bodyguards.

"I expect Dumbledore has turned this place back exactly the way it was also," remarked Ron. "You should have seen it, though. There was a - "

Ron stopped short as they passed into the hall. It seemed that once again the headmaster had confounded his prediction. The hall did indeed show no signs of the great battle that had taken place there but one could hardly say it had been restored to its earlier form. The structure of the hall remained the same and the faculty table was once again in its place at its front but the student seating area had been completely reconfigured: instead of the four long house tables, there were now many smaller round tables with seats arranged in circles facing one another. A long table ran down the length of the hall near the door containing plentiful piles of food each lit underneath by a small everlasting fire.

"Where are we supposed to sit?" wondered Ron.

"There," said Harry, pointing at a vacant table standing in what had once been part of the long Gryffindor table. "I suppose that's where the Gryffindors are sitting."

Hermione, Harry, and Ron made their way slowly over to the table and sat down.

"I expect these are just temporary," said Ron. "There's probably a complex charm or - _aaahhh!"_

Ron was quickly cut off as the table at which they were sitting along with their chairs began to move back across the room very fast. Harry looked around and saw that other tables were moving as well. They seemed certain to collide. Harry watched as a table of fourth-year Ravenclaws zoomed quickly toward them, its occupants covering their heads with their hands to break against the collision. At the last moment, however, the table and chairs swerved around to avoid them. It was a bit like a mad version of a ride in a Muggle amusement park.

Finally, their chairs and table stopped at a point further up the room and over toward the middle of what had once been the Hufflepuff and Slytherin tables.

"Bloody hell," said Ron. "How are we supposed to have dinner if the tables keep moving like this? Come on." He got up from his chair.

"Where are you going?" asked Hermione.

"Well, we can't stay sitting here, can we? I mean we're not in the right place."

"I think all the other tables are full, mate," said Harry.

It was true. The other tables, including all of those in what had once been the Gryffindor section of the hall, were now full of students.

"Perhaps it doesn't want you to sit over there," said Hermione, with a strange look that told Harry she knew more than she was letting on.

Ron seemed about to reply but he was interrupted by a voice behind them.

"Would you mind if I took the seat next to you? I think everywhere else is taken."

Only Hermione, who was now facing back toward the entrance to the hall, could see who was speaking to them. At the sound of the voice, however, both Harry and Ron turned around to find the former Slytherin Keeper Hall standing over them. At the sight of Ron, his face turned slightly pale and his lips went rigid.

"On the other hand," he said icily. "I expect I can find something _somewhere_. Excuse me."

And he was quickly off.

"Well," said Hermione, looking a bit apologetic, as Harry and Ron turned back around to face her. "I expect it will take some getting used to."

A few moments later, Luna and Neville arrived at the table to take the other vacant seats. Harry and Hermione asked about their health. Harry didn't let on that he'd seen Luna earlier in the corridor. She seemed quite lively again; Neville looked a bit pale but he was obviously pleased to be out of Azkaban. Harry couldn't help but notice that he kept trying to attract Ron's attention but Ron, who had gone very quiet, seemed to find it difficult to look at either him or Luna.

Their exchange of news was interrupted by the tapping of a spoon onto a goblet. Harry looked up to see Professor McGonagall getting to her feet at the staff table. She looked even thinner than Neville and seemed uncertain for a moment whether she would manage to keep her balance, but as she began to speak, hints of color once again suffused her cheeks.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts," she said. "Professor Dumbledore would like a few words."

Harry noticed for the first time that Dumbledore was now seated at the headmaster's chair. As he rose to his feet to speak to them, Harry wondered whether it would be for the very last time.

"Welcome back, yes, welcome back," he said, in a slightly tired voice. He took a significant pause and for a brief moment, Harry wondered whether he was going to be able to continue. But when Dumbledore spoke again, his words seemed to come with renewed energy.

"My friends," he said. "I feel safe in saying that the last year has been the darkest in the history of our kind. When I spoke to you in this very same place at the beginning of the first term, we celebrated together the defeat of Lord Voldemort. As most of you now realize, that celebration was premature. None of us anticipated what eventually happened, least of all myself."

Dumbledore lowered his head for a moment but then went on.

"But even this darkest of times - a time when we were separated from our friends, our memories, and indeed our very identities - has now come to an end. Yet although Lord Voldemort has finally been defeated and can now never return, we must not once again become complacent. True evil does not really have a name, only a face it occasionally wears, and if we are not careful, those faces can become our own. We must fight against outward evils, yes, but we also must guard against the evil that arises in our own hearts when we allow suspicion, mistrust, and fear to spread amongst ourselves. We must also learn that when we call others evil, it is sometimes because that name is well earned, but at other times, it is the unseen evil in our own hearts that creates an enemy for us. I regret that I have not always seen these evils coming; it is my hope to begin to do so today. But before I do, we are only present in this room because many have sacrificed their lives on our behalf. It is only fitting that we honor them first."

Dumbledore then read a long list of the names of the students who had died in the battle for the Great Hall, along with Professors Sinistra and Snape. He did not, of course, mention Ginny. Harry wasn't sure whether he should find himself angry at this but then he realized that he might have felt angrier still if he had. There was still a hope inside him, however much he feared to admit to himself, that she might return and it was obvious that Dumbledore shared it, too.

A long moment of silence fell after Dumbledore had finished reading the names, then Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued.

"Many of you no doubt wonder what has happened to the four house tables that once graced this hall. I did not choose to restore them; I can also see now that I should have disposed of them long ago. Naturally, you will all continue to live in separate houses. I daresay also that you will continue to form most of your friendships within those houses. But this hall will be a different place for a different kind of community - one that is no longer divided by suspicion and mistrust but that reaches out to embrace those who are different from ourselves. We will only stay strong if we stand together and respect and appreciate our diverse personalities and talents. The tables will only rearrange themselves every now and again and never once you have already started eating." Dumbledore gave a small smile and seemed to be looking over at Ron. "Forgive me but otherwise it would become far too easy to find ourselves once again entrenched in old habits. In time I hope that the charm will not be necessary.

"You may also have noticed that rather than appearing in front of you, the food for your dinner has been arranged on the long table beside you." Dumbledore gestured to the table with the food. "In a few moments, the prefects will direct you to come to collect your own food in an orderly manner. I apologize for the inconvenience and assure you that this is only a temporary measure. To explain further, I would like to invite Miss Hermione Granger, the president of the Hogwarts Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare, to the front of the hall. Miss Granger?"

Harry and Ron looked over in surprise at Hermione. She shrugged apologetically.

"I - I'm sorry. McGonagall came to see me while you both were away. It will only be a few minutes."

Hermione looked anxiously between them again, the same way she had on the train. Harry very much wished she wouldn't.

"Well, go on then!" said Ron, as Hermione continued to sit at the table.

Giving Ron and Harry one last hesitant look, Hermione got to her feet and walked to the front of the room where Dumbledore regarded her with a patient smile. He nodded to her and she turned around to face the room, taking out her wand and putting it to her mouth.

"_Sonorus," _she said and cleared her throat a little nervously. "Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore asked me to inform you that, as of today, all Hogwarts house-elves have been given clothes and freed."

A series of murmurs, along with some moans of disbelief, rose up among the students.

"Quiet please!" McGonagall called out. She nodded at Hermione to continue.

"At present, many of the house-elves have decided to return to their villages. Professor Dumbledore hopes that many will return in the autumn, however, to work for pay."

There were further murmurs. Many of the students, especially the Slytherins, looked rather disgusted.

"While we at S.P.E.W. are, of course, grateful to Professor Dumbledore for his wisdom and insight in this matter, there remains much more to be done. House-elves are still enslaved in much of the Wizarding World. Beginning this autumn, S.P.E.W. will change its name to S.L.E.D. - the Society for the Liberation of Elfin Domestic labor. S.L.E.D. will accelerate the work of S.P.E.W. not only fighting for fair conditions for elfin domestic help but also the liberation of those house-elves who remain enslaved. For more on this matter, I'd like to call forward the new president of S.L.E.D., Miss Arabella Wycliffe."

Hermione continued to remain standing at the front of the room but Arabella walked up from a nearby table to join her. She seemed to have written a series of notes which she proceeded to recite to the hall. She was obviously very nervous but Harry couldn't help but think how much older and more mature she seemed than the mousy girl who had first befriended Hermione almost two years before. Harry supposed that St. Brutus's had had a way of doing that to everyone.

Once Arabella began to speak about the specifics of S.L.E.D.'s agenda, however, Harry found himself quickly losing interest. He looked absently around the table and noticed that Hermione's seat was not the only one unoccupied. There were six chairs arranged around each table. Ron, Luna, and Neville had taken three, Hermione's empty chair was one, and his was the other. But there was yet still another next to him. And even though the hall was packed to overflowing with students, no one had taken it. And while Harry wasn't sure why that chair was empty, he had little doubt who it was meant to belong to.

It was Ginny's chair and as Harry looked at it, all he could think was that the very same witch who had given everyone in the room the life to celebrate and mourn as they pleased wasn't there herself to share it.

_9 June 1998_

_I don't know why I'm writing this really. I suppose part of me thought I'd forget all of the false memories as soon as we'd gotten our real ones back, that the whole thing would be just like a nightmare that you remember only for a few moments after you wake and then returns back to your subconscious, but I suppose it doesn't really work that way. Something of the nightmare will always stay with me. I know I wrote in this diary to give me comfort in that horrible school (not this one, of course, but one just like it) and I know that it saved me then but part of me is loathe to have to write in it again because I know it's a habit I picked up there. Still, I can't really seem to help it. I suppose it's a part of me now and there's no use pretending that it isn't. I suppose you can go back but you can't _really_ go back. Part of me will be forever changed by what happened._

_I can't say I'm not grateful, though, for the chance to spend a little time to myself to straighten out my thoughts. I suppose this is how Harry must feel all the time. _

_We've been here at the Burrow not even a day now and already I can't stand it. Everyone's nice, of course, but it's a bit like being at a funeral that's always just about to begin. All of the Weasleys are here, of course, but everything's dead quiet. Even Fred and George don't say very much. Mrs. Weasley makes a lot of noise, of course, but it always seems to sound dead and hollow. And she keeps crying and then apologizing, and then someone will go over to comfort her, and - it's all just so horrible, I had to get away, so I'm sitting outside on their garden near a shed sort of place, trying to write this. I even conjured a netball hoop here, speaking of remembering things from St. Brutus's. I find that calms me down as well and I'm still good at it even though I never really learned to play. I just have the memory of playing. It's very strange indeed._

_Of course, the worst part about it all is that everyone keeps talking as though Ginny's gone out for the weekend or something but she's coming right back. I don't think they really believe that. I certainly don't think Ron believes it. I'm not sure what Harry believes; he's keeping a lot to himself. __He was there, of course, I mean out there wherever Ginny_

Hermione sighed heavily. She crossed out her last line and then started a new paragraph.

_Of course people don't come back from the dead. I know that. Ginny's gone and the sooner everyone moves on, the better. _

_But I don't know if Ron or Harry will ever be the same, though. That's why I can't leave here yet. I want to go back and see my parents. I suppose it really was them who came to see me in St. Brutus's. When we left St. Mungo's, I even found the locket with their picture amongst the pile of things the healers put beside my bed, but I don't know whether they'll remember. Part of me hopes they won't. Part of me wishes I didn't either._

_I think Ron and Harry both think they killed Ginny. Of course, neither of them did. If what Harry told us was true then she killed herself. Part of me hates her now, I think, hates her for doing this to them. __I think she was really selfish actually_

Hermione sighed again and crossed out the line.

_No, she wasn't selfish, was she? After all, what would any of us have done? Well, perhaps I shouldn't think that. But still, she could only have stopped Voldemort the way she did. But it's still awful, that's all._

_Well, what else to say? Everything went well with Arabella's speech, not that it's very much on my mind right now with everything else going on. It looks like we really are going to have to go back and finish up our N.E.W.Ts over the summer. I don't know how I'm ever going to do mine; I missed a whole year! Ron thinks I should stop worrying; of course, I'll do well, he says, but if it were that easy, I would have done them after sixth year._

_The group from Azkaban made it back all right. You should have seen the enormous ruckus when Lavender and Parvati were reunited. They spent most of last night trying to catch up. Finally, I just put silencing charms on the pair of them. I'm not sorry; I warned them. I probably should have done it years ago. Lavender was all full of some righteous talk of reporting me to Professor McGonagall when I finally unleashed her beastly mouth again this morning but I just took my trunk and walked out. I suppose I shall hear about it_ _later on in the summer. I suppose that's another thing I never would have done before St. Brutus's but there, I did._

_One thing I found out, though: Lavender was stupid and callous enough to act all jealous to Dean about Ginny just because they could remember her again, even though she's dead. If I were Dean, I think I'd find a new bubble world to stuff her away in, but it seems that they're together now. Whatever Lavender did or said to him that day he was beaten by Snape, he can't forget it. Well, I'm happy for him at any rate. It's funny but in one way, even though it was horrible that I forgot about Ron and Harry forgot about Ginny, it was better in a way that Dean forgot about Ginny. Otherwise, he'd still be wishing for something he could never have. Perhaps some good has come out of all this after all, but with all that's happened, it's difficult to believe that it amounts to very much._

_I think I've run out of things to say now. I expect I've been out here too long; I suppose I'd better go back in and find_

"Hermione?"

Hermione looked up. It was Ron.

"Where have you been?" he asked. "What are you doing?"

Hermione looked down at the open diary in her hands. Her first instinct was to shut it, an instinct borne from a world far away built on paranoia and secrecy, an instinct that instantly made her feel ashamed.

"It's - it's a diary," she said. "I - "

Ron frowned. "I didn't know you kept a diary."

"I - I didn't. That was - well, I kept one at the school."

"The school where you and Harry went?"

Hermione nodded, trying to keep the anxious expression out of her face. The last thing she wanted to talk about was the school, but Ron didn't ask anything more. She noticed for the first time that he had something in his hands, a bag. He was fidgeting with it.

"Would you - " he began and then faltered. "Would you come for a walk with me?"

"Of course," said Hermione. Her heart lightened. Maybe he would finally tell her what was on his mind.

Ron didn't move for a moment. He just stopped and looked at her. Then, very slowly, he took the bag into his left hand and held out his right one for Hermione to take. It was full of nervous sweat but she held onto it tightly.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I don't know. Not here."

"Up to the hills?"

Ron looked up at the hill above the Burrow that Hermione was pointing at. It was the near the spot where they had found Harry and Ginny kissing at the end of the previous year. There was a large tree on that hill, and although Hermione didn't know it, it had been planted the year that Ginny was born.

Ron nodded. "All right," he said.

And slowly they began to walk.

It had been three days since Harry had defeated Voldemort and Ginny had disappeared through the veil. He didn't know if there was really any chance she could make it back now. He had started to wonder if the vision he had felt beyond the veil had really even happened. It all seemed just like a dream.

He still didn't want to stay in this world. No matter how much Hermione and Ron loved him, he still couldn't help but feel he was alone here. Maybe he'd really been alone since the day his parents had died. He was certainly alone now that Ginny had died. But he knew he couldn't; he couldn't if there was any chance Ginny would still come back. Part of Harry hated himself for even believing it might happen. He wondered how long he would continue to believe it. Yet he couldn't seem to completely let go of the hope. He could still see his father standing in front of him hazily promising he would do everything he could to get Ginny back. He remembered Ginny herself shouting to him that she'd never leave him. What had she meant by that? It was horrible being trapped in this limbo.

Harry took several deep breaths of air as he walked. It wasn't all that warm of a day; in fact, it looked as though it was going to rain soon, but he had to get away from that house. It felt so hot and stifling. They had all taken good care of him, of course. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred and George, Ron and Hermione. Professor Lupin was planning to come next week, though Harry knew he couldn't survive that long.

He knew he had to leave this place.

And so he had managed to tell Mrs. Weasley. Naturally, she'd been very upset, but it had been the only way. Harry had insisted he would return as he soon as he could - and he didn't doubt that he would. After all, he hadn't really anywhere else to go, had he? But at least it might be give him some breathing room, some time alone to think, however short that time might be.

Harry also knew that he couldn't leave without telling Ron and Hermione and so he had gone out to look for them. He wasn't really sure where they'd gone; it was probably somewhere private. Maybe Ron even -

Harry's thoughts came to a halt. He looked out toward the hill behind the Burrow, out at the tree where he and Ginny had sat, kissing and talking the year before when Hermione and Ron had found them and they'd all gone walking down the hill together happily. There were two figures standing underneath the tree - Ron and Hermione. It was very far away and Harry could only see faintly but Ron had something in his hands. A bag. And as Harry watched, he slowly began to untie it.

Harry already knew what was in that bag. He wanted to turn and walk away. He didn't want to see and he knew he wasn't supposed to but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away. All he could do was continue to stand there and watch as the lives of his two best friends were about to change forever.

They reached the top of the hill and Ron stopped walking. Hermione turned to face him. He still kept hold of her hand. They stood there staring at one another for a moment. Hermione felt a sudden tension like she was sensing the thoughts of the dark grey clouds that had started to swirl above them. A light breeze picked up. A few spots of rain started to fall.

"I - I - " Ron began. "I owe you an apology, Hermione."

Tears suddenly pricked Hermione's eyes. She rushed toward Ron and placed her hands gently on his chest.

"What for?" she asked. "Ron, you can't blame yourself for this! You - "

But Ron shook his head. "I could have prevented a lot of this from happening, you know. If only I hadn't been such a coward - "

"Ron, you are not a coward!"

"You don't understand, Hermione, I - I - "

"Ron, you didn't kill your sister! There was nothing you could have - "

"You don't understand." Tears started to pool in Ron's own eyes now. "This isn't about Ginny. Well, in a way I suppose it is. But it's really about us."

"Ron, you don't have to - "

"Please let me finish, Hermione. Because if I don't finish this time, I'm afraid I'm never going to."

Hermione was silent.

"I - I - " Ron looked down at the bag in his hands. "I wanted to give you something, remember?"

"Yes, but I thought you said - I mean - "

"When I thought we were going to die, Hermione, I thought I didn't need to. But now - now I think we're going to live but still, you can never tell. You can never know what's going to happen. I mean, look at Ginny. We just have to..."

Ron's words trailed off.

"Bugger," he said, "I'm not really good at making speeches. Here."

Ron unwrapped the bag. Hermione looked inside and, being Hermione, she knew exactly what it was she was looking at.

The rain began to fall a little harder but neither of them seemed to notice. Hermione looked down at the wizard rings swirling about almost innocently inside their battered case. Suddenly, she wasn't thinking about Ginny or the school or Harry or anything else. The past, present, and future seemed all to have collided on this day on this hill and Hermione suddenly had the feeling it was always going to be that way.

"Will you - " Ron began. "I mean if you don't - "

Hermione snatched the box into her hands. Before Ron could say anything more, she tore open the glass cover. The cover and felt case fell into two pieces on the soft green grass beneath their feet. The freed wizard rings rose into the air, continuing to twirl around and around each other like two butterflies in love. Then, with a quiet almost imperceptible ping, they touched and then rushed down each toward the left index fingers of Ron and Hermione where they would remain until both had passed forever beyond the gateway.

Hermione looked down at her hand in disbelief for a moment. She saw Ron doing the same. Then they looked at each other. A peel of thunder crashed somewhere far away. Hermione started to cry. She reached out toward Ron and buried her face in his chest. He pulled his arms around her and ran his fingers lovingly through her bushy hair.

"Oh, you bloody fool!" she declared, and then started crying again.

And then she felt it. It was as though someone had pricked the ring on her finger with an electric shock. But instead of a surge of electricity she sensed a current of emotions running through her mind. Guilt, loss, and anger poured into Hermione's soul like a wall of fire. For a moment she couldn't hold it; she couldn't stand it. She wanted to yank the ring away, but she continued to hold onto Ron tightly. She pressed her fingers against his back and allowed him to feel her love, her reassurance. She slowly began to reassert her own self, her own feelings. She visualized a wall of calm blocking off the fire, perhaps not fully extinguishing it, but containing it, soothing it, taming it - and she knew that Ron could feel it, too. Then she felt something else coming through the connection: his love, his warmth, his feeling for her, something he could never have described to her himself, a feeling that she'd thought she'd always felt, but now realized that she'd never really experienced until now. And suddenly it was very wonderful indeed to be alive.

The rain still pouring down around them, the two joined lovers slowly moved away from one another. Hermione smiled up at Ron like a giggly little schoolgirl and, after a brief moment, as though it was infectious (which in fact it was), Ron smiled, too.

"I don't know what I'm going to tell my Mum," said Ron.

"I don't know what _I'm _going to tell her."

"That's easy. Just say it was all my fault."

It was then that, almost precisely at the same time, Ron and Hermione stared down the hill through the misty rain toward the house. It was then that they saw Harry, standing alone a few hundred yards below them.

Without hesitation, Ron held out his hand and waved at him to come up the hill. Harry still didn't move, and then Hermione did the same. They both stood there waving for a moment and then Harry finally walked slowly up toward them. A few minutes later, he had walked to within talking distance. His wand was out in front of him and it seemed as though he had used Hermione's Impervius charm to clean his glasses. Other than that, he was just like them: completely soaked.

They all looked at each other for a moment. Hermione was certain there was a look of disbelief on Harry's face and she could sense Ron's anxiousness, but then Harry slowly broke into a small, slightly grudging smile, and then a fuller one.

"I suppose I should be the first to congratulate you two," he said.

"It's only fitting," Ron replied. "Without you, I don't think we'd be here doing this right now."

There was another pause.

"I never wanted to run away from you," said Harry, his smile fading. "Either of you. You're my best friends. And no matter what you always will be. But I - I came to tell you that I'm - I'm going away for a while, just - just a little while," he added quickly before either of them could object.

"Where to?" demanded Ron. "This is your home, Harry!"

"I - I know. I - I - just, I'm just going back to the Dursleys for a day or two."

"_What?" _said Ron.

"Just for a day or two!" Harry added again defensively. "I just left some things there, I mean, at the beginning of the year before, I didn't take some of my things with me and I never went back to get them last summer and so - look, just a couple of days, all right?"

Harry didn't think that either Hermione or Ron really believed him and, of course, he didn't really believe himself either, but he knew that he had to find some time to be alone.

"Just don't stay away too long, Harry," said Ron, after a moment of silence.

"I - I won't. I don't want to; I mean that."

And he did.

Hermione looked over at him. He could see a sort of understanding in her eyes and he wondered whether she could somehow share it with Ron as well.

"We're your friends, Harry," she said. "Just remember that. It doesn't matter if you're gone for an hour, a day, or a week. Just don't forget."

"I won't. It's going to take a lot worse than an army of Death Eaters to keep the three of us apart."

Harry forced himself to smile again. Hermione reached out her hand toward his and held it. A moment later, Ron put his own hand on top. The trio of friends looked at each other and Harry realized that Ron had been right. Voldemort had tried to pull their minds, their bodies, and their friendship apart, but he hadn't succeeded. He was dead and they were standing there together, and they weren't going to give that up for anything.

And then they slowly took their hands away. Harry took one last look at Ron and Hermione and then began to walk down the hill and back toward the Burrow. He stopped about halfway and waved back to them, a half-smile finding its way onto his face, before turning around again and continuing on.

The dusk of an early childhood bedtime had not quite finished its long drowsy shadow on the village when they awoke Siosia. She looked up into their large eyes and she knew. She knew right away. Though no one had ever really told her, she had prepared herself for this moment ever since she was old enough to remember.

Her mother began to explain then, softly, slowly, trying to make difficult things sound simple as one always does to a child. But Siosia wasn't listening. She already knew. She already understood the most difficult things of all. She had always known it would be her.

She had heard it in the furtive eyes of the adult elves as they neared her, the gossipy whispers of the other children. Even the J'k'ibir seemed to approach her with a sort of calm, awed gravity. But most of all she had known from the day that the navigators had first named her.

Siosia. The New Becoming.

Her parents took Siosia by the hand and led her out of their hut. She could see that the rest of the village had gathered around them. They all walked together slowly down the sacred path that led toward the hut of the elders as though they had planned this all along.

Wizards know many things that elves do not know - most things, in fact. They have knowledge and they have power and they used both to trick and enslave the elves for centuries. But there are a few things - a few important things - that elves know and wizards do not. Long ago, long before Siosia was born, there was another prophecy, a prophecy that wizards knew nothing about, the prophecy of the Promised One. According to that prophecy, a child would be born to a common family at a moment when the brightest stars in the sky formed into the shape of the Lumk!ib. That child, while still a child, would meet the Promised One and give her the gift of the Guika'la.

The other children had all started to wear the Guika'la, the pentrax necklace, as soon as the human strangers had first come into their village to live among them. Each of them had all hoped that the prophecy had meant them, but Siosia had always known it would be her. And as soon as Jiniwuzhy had wrongly gifted the necklace to her, she knew that there would come a day when she would finally give it back. She had also known from the moment she had first laid her small, young eyes on this towering stranger that she was the Promised One, the _Kal'j'bak,_ the human that would come among them like all the other humans, with smiles and friendship, but that _unlike _them, would never betray elfin-kind, even at the cost of her own life. The Promised One would also mark the beginning of the end of elfin enslavement. In return, the navigators would use their power to bring her back to life.

The village had all been full of talk when the strangers had first arrived, of course. Many had said that the tall white-bearded man was the Promised One, but Siosia hadn't quite believed it. There was a brightness and warmth to his smile, that was sure, but the mind behind his eyes was opaque, clouded and confused in a web of expedient means and desperate necessities. The man with the lines on his face had been kinder and gentler, but there was much that had haunted him as well.

Jiniwuzhy had not been like them. Siosia had known that from the beginning. She had been sure of it when she had tried to learn their language, accepted their mark, and started to wear their clothes. And from the moment when Ginny had made for her the Guika'la, Siosia had known she would one day return it to her, just as the prophecy had said. She also knew that one night Jini would leave them; that she would walk away from the village rather than betray the elves to their enemies.

When Siosia had noticed the wizard with the lined face return that night, she somehow knew that the time had come. As so she had waited, awake in bed long after parents had fallen asleep. She had heard the soft footsteps that no one else in the village had heard. She had walked out of her hut and given the Guika'la back to Jini, the gift that would keep her whole long after she had left to the place where souls merge and drift like pieces of cloud.

They had reached the central square now. Siosia could see the elders standing a little to the side of the grassy ground. Only the navigators, dressed in their priestly robes, occupied the center. They began to slowly draw the nexus triangle, their fire sticks spitting out tongues of flame onto the ground. A few moments later, the triangle was complete. Then all eyes turned to Siosia.

Her mother started to whisper in her ear but once again the tiny elf did not hear her. She already knew what she had to do; she had always known. The navigator nearest her gently handed his fire stick to her. For the first time in her life but with a quiet confidence, Siosia stepped onto the sacred center. She put the stick down at a point where two sides of the triangle met. Then slowly, methodically, and somehow knowingly, she began to draw the pentagon-shape of the pentrax frame around it.

It was already well past dark by the time Harry had walked off the double-decker Muggle bus and started his slow walk down Magnolia Road and out toward Privet Drive. He could have Apparated to a nearby point, hopped on the Knight Bus, any number of things to make his journey faster. But he hadn't wanted to reach Privet Drive in any sort of a hurry. It was the journey he had looked forward to rather than the destination. Once he arrived, he sincerely hoped that his stay would be as brief as possible.

He hadn't really needed any of the things, of course. There were just a few clothes and one or two spell books from his early years at Hogwarts that were unlikely to be of much use now. It had all been a rather desperate excuse to get away from the Burrow.

But as he walked down the pavement toward Number Four, Harry immediately began to wish he was back with the Weasleys. He had half hoped to find the Dursleys house still burned down as it had been when he was last there. But there it was: still was as good as new as though nothing had ever happened. The only thing that seemed strange was that all of the lights were still on, even the light in his old bedroom. Harry glanced at his watch to see that it was coming up to 11:30 and he knew that the Dursleys never stayed up very late.

Then another thought occurred to Harry. Perhaps the Dursleys had moved. Yes, now that he thought about it, it seemed very plausible. They wouldn't have wanted to stick around after Voldemort's abortive attack, would they? And the new occupants apparently were the sort that stayed up a bit past the Dursleys' bedtimes.

Harry stopped walking. He considered for a moment completely turning back. After all, it was obvious now that he thought about it: the Dursleys were far away, just as they had always wanted to be, somewhere he would never find them. And his things had already been destroyed. What use was it in going on?

Harry started to turn back around but something made him stop again. It would feel a little bit foolish if somehow the Dursleys really hadn't gone and here he was, practically on their doorstep, without so much as checking to see that they really weren't there. No, he decided, wondering a little why he cared, he would at least go to the front door, ring the doorbell, and confirm his suspicions. After all, whoever it was was still awake, weren't they?

Harry suppressed a feeling of queasiness as he walked up the short pavement that led to the door. He was about to press the doorbell when the door opened and Uncle Vernon's face and neck, thicker and angrier than ever, peered across at him.

"There's no need to shout," said Harry before Uncle Vernon had even opened his mouth. "I'm here to get a few things, that's all. And then I'm leaving and never, ever coming back again. Understood?"

Uncle Vernon's face twisted and contorted as though something was pulling it into an unseen dimension.

"Not feeling well, are we?" said Harry, stepping over the threshold of the door and into the house. "Dudley's really gone and done something awful this time, hasn't he? Disappeared? Been arrested, perhaps? It was bound to happen, you know."

Uncle Vernon's spittle seemed to catch in his throat but still no words came out of his mouth.

"Well, I'll just be up to my room and then on my way, shall I?"

Harry tried to duck past Uncle Vernon and walk up the stairs but the beefy-framed man moved to block his path.

"You - horrible - little - you - your kind - never again - in my house - I thought I told - "

"Yes, I realize you weren't expecting me."

But Uncle Vernon smiled a very horrible smile and shook his head.

"We weren't expecting you?" he said rhetorically. "_We were expecting you all right, boy!" _he boomed. "Why else would _she _be here? And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."

"Sorry," said Harry flippantly. "You seem to have stumped me this time."

"_The girl. _The - one of those - those - bloody red-haired - the ones that gave Dudley that - that - she's your _girlfriend, _isn't she? _Well, she's tricked her way in here, she's been sitting in your bloody room for the past bloody hour, and she isn't bloody welcome!"_

Harry's heart stopped. He was vaguely aware that Uncle Vernon was still speaking but the normally shattering sound of his voice now seemed to be coming from very far away. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Voices inside his head begged him to calm down, pleading with him not to give in to the enormous feeling of hope that was now spreading out from his heart like a mushroom, telling him that if wasn't her, if it wasn't Ginny, he'd never be able to get over the loss a second time.

Harry tried to move around Uncle Vernon again. The only way out of this was to see, was to know for himself. But the older man blocked his way a second time.

"Oh, no," said Vernon. "No, you're not. You're not going up there until you've promised me you're - "

Vernon stopped talking as he found Harry's wand poking into his substantial stomach.

"You can't use that," he said, looking a little nervously from the wand to the manic smile on Harry's face. "You're - you're - they'll expel you from that school again."

"Sorry, no," said Harry, still smiling. "School's over, I'm afraid. I'm of age now."

Vernon's blotchy complexion faded to a blanch white. He quickly stepped aside still eyeing Harry's wand. Harry for his part didn't waste another moment. He tore up the steps, two at a time, and flung the handle to his room door open.

His room was exactly as he'd left it, save for a Playstation and a new-looking iMac that had been moved in on top of the desks, obviously for Dudley's benefit. Sitting on his bed, her arms around her knees and her legs pulled up to her chest was Ginny.

"Hi," she said quietly.

From somewhere far away came the sound of pounding footsteps.

"See, what did I tell - " Vernon began, but that was as far as he got as Harry slammed the door in his face and turned the lock.

Vernon continued to pound noisily on the door but were he to know what was going to happen next, even he might have agreed that it was best all around if he didn't enter: Harry hadn't the chance to say anything to Ginny when an enormous rush of feathers flew in from the open window. When the flying and squawking had died down, he untied an envelope from Pigwidgeon's foot. It was addressed to him. He opened it.

_Harry,_

_Ginny's back! She came to the Burrow and we sent her over to the Dursleys by Knight Bus! Thank the gods; I don't believe it!_

_Ron_

Harry let the letter fall to the floor. He was dimly aware that Pigwidgeon was now flying in circles around the room. Ginny called him over and began to feed him an owl treat from the pocket of her dress, the same one she'd been wearing the day that she'd fallen through the veil. Pigwidgeon happily snapped up the treat as though witches returned every day from the dead just to feed him. Ginny looked up at Harry and Harry looked down at her but still he said nothing. He didn't really know what he could say.

"Are - are you - are you really - are you real?" he finally managed.

Ginny nodded.

"I - I mean." Harry walked cautiously toward her. "You're not - you're not some sort of - I mean Polyjuice Potion or, well, or ghost or - or something?"

Ginny shook her head.

"I mean, I - I - I don't - I just - "

Harry couldn't help it any more. The tears were rushing to his eyes. He didn't even try to keep them back.

"I'm sorry, I just - I just don't want - I can't - if it's not you then - "

Ginny sighed. "Oh, Harry," she said. "Come here."

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He walked over to his bed, dropping the bag he'd been carrying to the floor.

"Touch me," she said. "Feel me. I'm here. I'm real."

She took hold of his hand very gently and touched it to the side of her face, then her shoulder, and finally down the fabric of her dress to her side.

"Ask me anything," she added.

"But I - I - I shouldn't - I should just believe; I should just trust you, shouldn't I? I mean - "

"But you don't want to be hurt," Ginny finished. "You don't have to apologize to me, Harry. I understand. I'm not angry; I can't be. Everything I am, the little girl I was, the woman that I want become: you gave it all back to me when you let me face him and stop his plans myself. Ask me something; go on. Ask me something only I could know."

"Well, er, what was the name of the game we played during the Guy Fawkes ball last year?"

"Spellmaster and then we played Wizard Truth but I don't think we ever finished that one."

"OK. Er, what's the second track on that Smashing Trolls song spell I gave you?"

"You never gave me a Smashing Trolls song spell, Harry. It was a _Weird Sisters_ Muggle CD. And the song's called Confounded."

"What's the color of my underwear?"

Ginny's mouth opened and she went a bright shade of red, but then she smiled as she saw the mischievous smirk crawling up the edges of Harry's mouth.

"Harry Potter, I hope that was a trick question."

Harry had heard enough. He put his arms around Ginny's shoulders, let his hands touch the soft face he thought he would never touch again, let his fingers run through the silky strands of the bright red hair he never thought he'd feel again. The voices in his head had vanished now, replaced by a euphoria he couldn't quite bring himself to believe even as he felt it.

"It really _is _you, isn't it?"

Ginny smiled and nodded. She reached out her own fingers through Harry's thick dark hair and then gently down his cheek and then watched as Harry frowned when another worry occurred to him.

"But you - I mean, are you all right? Are you - will you live - will you - "

Harry stopped talking as Ginny nodded.

"I'm fine, Harry. I don't understand it all, still. It seems like a dream to me even now, but your father was wonderful."

"My father?" Harry repeated, a little dumbly.

"Yes, Harry," said Ginny, still smiling. "It was the elves that pulled me back; they protected me somehow through the necklace I was wearing but he helped me to leave in just the right place at just the right time. I don't know how but somehow he knew. And then they sent me to the Burrow somehow - I Disapparated actually, and then I came here to find you. I - I still don't know how I - I think I must have some of their powers now - the elves, I mean."

"B - but what about your body? I mean wouldn't it, well, I mean it was three days, wasn't it? Wouldn't it - well - "

"Decompose? It would have done if it weren't for you, Harry."

"Me?"

"Yes, you brought it through the gateway, remember?"

Harry did remember. And he wasn't sure why he had done so; it had just been instinct at the time but an instinct he was now very glad he had followed.

"My body was trapped between the two worlds, in a kind of stasis. I'm even three days younger now, I suppose. I still have a bit of headache, though, but your father told me that would pass as well."

"You have a headache?"

"Well, I was a corpse for a few minutes, Harry, before you took me inside. It's bound to - "

"You died and you have a _headache?"_

Ginny nodded again.

"And - and you're _really _all right, I mean you'll be - "

"Alive for a very long time, I hope. As long as you at least. I made you a promise, Harry, and I'm here to keep that promise."

Harry didn't reply right away. He let his hands ran over Ginny's shoulders again and looked closely into her deep brown eyes.

"I don't want to ever be apart from you again," he said. "I want to buy us wizard rings like Ron and Hermione's. I want to marry you and I want to have lots of children."

"Well," said Ginny, smiling back at him. "Maybe one or two."

Harry looked at her a little longer. He felt like a huge weight had shifted in his chest. He felt fresh tears run down his cheeks, then he began to sob, a little at first, then more, then finally he started to wail like a child. He wailed so loudly and cried so hard he thought he would lose his voice and flood his eyes out but there was nothing he could possibly do to stop himself.

Ginny reached forward and gently pulled her arms around, rocking him softly back and forth and running her fingers through his hair again.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered into his ear. "It's over now, it's all over."

And so it was. And so Harry and Ginny, along with their best friends Ron and Hermione, would live the remainder of their long lives on this earth in relative peace. And though their relationship would not be without its occasional problems, they would be far fewer than most of us could ever reasonably hope for. For Harry and Ginny had been blessed early in their lives with the understanding of how precious and fragile their love really was. The scars of their trials with Lord Voldemort, both on their bodies and in their minds, would never really fade away completely, of course, but whenever the demons of their nightmares tried to claim them, they would always awake to find the other lying softly at their side, always ready to treat the other's vestigial fears with caring, reassurance, and love. And one day both would pass beyond the gateway to reunite with the souls of those they had lost and live in the strange world that both had saved when they had still been so very young.

But all that would come in the future. For now, Harry held onto Ginny very tightly. He couldn't imagine ever wanting to let go.


	28. Prologue

Veil Of Memorie

**Prologue**

**The Beginning of the End**

The wizard touched his wand to the map again not because he was not already precisely sure he was in the right place. Almost immediately that he had checked it, he wiped the map from the parchment and stuffed it nervously back into the pocket of his jacket. The wizard had no particular reason to think he was being observed but he also knew that there was far too much at stake for him to be wrong.

It was not an ordinary map that this wizard was holding, nor would the tranquil lake he was now approaching through the sloping remains of the forest appear on any of our Muggle maps. If we had happened to find it as children, we might return to our parents with the wonderful tales of the myocorps, goblins, elves, and even giants that lived here. They might reassure us in our make believe but as we grew older, we would quietly convince ourselves that it had, in fact, all been in our imagination after all.

The wizard gradually reached the edge of the forest hill and cupped the cool water to his face, letting it calm his still anxious heart. If he was surprised to have found the water so remarkably peaceful and still or the sky above him a pristine blue while his clothes were still damp with the rain falling down from the slate-grey sky on the other side of the forest, he did not show it. For this wizard knew that this lake was far from what it might seem to non-magical eyes.

But there was one thing that did seem to surprise the wizard, at least judging from the very strange frown that wrote itself across his face as soon as he had finished touching the water to his face and had taken the time to watch his reflection in the water. It was as though the person looking back at him was completely unfamiliar. The wizard stared at his reflection for a few moments before he slowly moved his right index finger toward his forehead and traced it over a very unusual-looking lightning-bolt scar as though he was seeing it for the very first time.

If any of we Muggles had seen the wizard, who would have appeared to us like an ordinary man, we might have thought him mad or suffering a severe loss of memory not to understand what one could expect to find in his own reflection. If any of the wizard's own kind had happened to see him at that moment, they might also have thought him mad, perhaps confirming deeply-held suspicions they had long felt uncomfortable admitting even to themselves. But they would have thought so for quite a different reason.

For the wizard standing at the edge of the lake was not an ordinary wizard and his scar was no ordinary scar. Nor was it a mark which - as the surprised expression on the face of the wizard seemed to suggest - some recent misfortune had grafted onto his forehead. The wizard was Harry Potter and the scar had belonged to him for as long as he could remember. It had been branded there by the Dark Wizard who had once called himself Lord Voldemort, a brand through which Voldemort had finally sealed his own fate at Harry's hand in a story that he had stopped telling when he finally realized that no one save his closest friends, who had experienced many of the events themselves, would believe. Not we Muggles, of course, who had never heard of either Harry Potter or Lord Voldemort, but not even the wizards, witches, and many other magical creatures who are forced to accept the impossible on a regular basis.

But as it so happened, Harry was not mad, though he had been driven to the precipice of madness many times in his still relatively short life. As to what had made him suddenly stare at his scar as an unrecognizable object, we are forced to consign to our own speculations as there was no one around at that precise moment in whom Harry chose to share his ruminations. In fact, he very much believed he was quite alone until a voice nearby called out:

"Be wantin' anythin', dearie?"

Harry was so startled that he nearly lost his balance and fell face first into the water. When he had recovered, he looked up to see a disheveled-looking creature who was bent over almost double with two large beady eyes that looked him up and down as it talked and an impossibly long nose that curled up like a fish hook. It was standing on top of three moss-covered wooden planks that looked as though they had been strung together with seaweed and could not possibly float. The creature, which Harry recognized as a myocorp, held in its stubby hand a short, gnarled walking stick which seemed to double as a makeshift oar.

"I'd like to get across to the other side, please," said Harry.

The myocorp continued to scrutinize Harry carefully.

"Quicker if's yeh walked around the forest," it muttered.

"No," said Harry, a little more firmly this time. "I mean I need to cross to the island in the middle." Harry pointed his finger out to a very small tree-covered patch of earth which rose up unexpectedly from the middle of the lake.

"There doesn't seem to be any other way to reach it," added Harry, wondering if he should be stating the obvious.

The myocorp looked thoughtfully between Harry and the island in the lake as if noticing it for the very first time.

"'Int nothin' on that island but trees, dearie. Why d'yeh be wantin' to go there?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry. I can't say, not to anyone. But it's very important."

The myocorp took a step closer to Harry and peered at him again as if doing so would cause it to discover Harry's secret. On apparently finding this was not the case, it moved back to its makeshift raft. Finally, and at the moment when Harry himself seemed to least expect it, the myocorp flipped over its walking stick and used the hook end to pull Harry onto the raft with a strength that surprised him. Before he had realized what was happening, the myocorp had turned its stick around again and used it to punt both it and Harry away from the shore.

"All right, then," it said, somewhat belatedly. "If you insist. That'll be one galleon."

"One galleon!"

"Well things go up, don't they?" The myocorp planted its stick into the surface of the lake and began vigorously propelling the raft further and further away from the shore. "An' no one hardly ever comes 'ere to use me ferry anyhow. Gotta pay me way somehow."

"Perhaps if you didn't discourage those who do come, you would do a better trade!" retorted Harry, beginning to feel his patience slip away.

The myocorp half-coughed, half-laughed in response. "I can' very well set me price if I don' first know how badly the customer wants it, now can I?"

Harry's eyes widened. "You mean - "

The myocorp laughed again. "Too late now, chappie," it said, taking its stick out of the water which Harry noticed had grown magically as they moved out into greater depths. "Price is set. Binding magical agreement. Now hand over yeh money."

Harry couldn't remember having agreed to anything but he grudgingly reached into his pocket and pulled out a few coins. He shifted them in his palm to select the correct one when a familiar voice said with typical calmness.

"You can put your money away, Harry. It's just that I don't get much of an audience for my little jokes anymore."

This time Harry did manage to lose his balance. He was only prevented from falling into the lake when a firm hand reached out to take his and pulled him back upright.

Overcoming his initial shock, Harry was startled to see how much Dumbledore had aged since he had seen him last. And when was that exactly? His former headmaster had always looked old, even ancient, but there was a frailty about Dumbledore now that Harry could not remember having noticed during his school days. Wrinkles seemed to crisscross his face from every direction and his back was still slightly hunched over, albeit in slightly less dramatic manner than that of the myocorp.

But Dumbledore's azure eyes were just as intense as they had always been.

"I'm sorry I startled you," said Dumbledore again. "I've been getting quite good at myocorps."

Harry had known since the end of his sixth year at Hogwarts that Dumbledore could transfigure himself into nearly any creature he wished but he found that it still struck him as somewhat of a surprise.

"It's all right, sir," he managed to mumble.

"Sir?" said Dumbledore and Harry suddenly realized that Dumbledore had been watching him closely as well. "I rather think that you might be getting a little too old to be calling me sir."

"Professor," Harry muttered but Dumbledore shook his head again.

"Perhaps Albus," he suggested, smiling softly.

Harry shook his head.

"I don't think I could get used to that."

"Then you must settle for what sounds best for you." Dumbledore continued to smile engagingly, "but I'm afraid I can't very well have you calling me professor for those days are now past. How old are you now, may I ask?"

"Thirty-one."

"Losing a bit of hair, I see?"

Harry touched his scalp a little self-consciously.

"I did, too, a bit at your age," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "But then I came across an excellent potion which I think you'll agree worked wonders."

"It's all right," replied Harry smiling. "I prefer it this way." He frowned suddenly. "Sir, I - I'm sorry - I know you said that I oughtn't bother you unless - "

Dumbledore held up a hand.

"Not to worry, Harry, I'm sure that whatever it is, it must be important."

Harry looked down thoughtfully and then suddenly up again, a burning pain in his eyes.

"Harry?" said Dumbledore, sounding concerned.

Harry did not say anything but continued to stare straight ahead. It had been some while since he had had his last flashback. Perhaps recent events had stirred the fears that had lain dormant in his heart for so long. At first he had tried to control the flashbacks, but now he knew that it was best to let them run their course lest they come to him while he was sleeping.

_He was in a chamber: high, wide, and deep. The sounds of magical explosions rang all around him, the last remains of a war that had threatened to tear open heaven and earth itself. He was hanging by the tips of his fingers. The horribly unnatural fabric that Voldemort had spun to hold up the gateway dug its way into his fingers. In his mind's eye, Harry wondered how much longer he should wait. Once he was sure that the soul of the Dark Lord was gone forever, he would know that his work was done. He could finally be free of the prophecy's burden. _

_And then he would let go. There was nothing and no one to stop him or blame him this time. He would fall. It would all be over very quickly. And then he would no longer be alone._

_But just as Harry began to release his grip, a door opened somewhere. He watched frantically as two very familiar shapes rushed onto the gangway above him. He couldn't do this while they were still here. Why did they have to come in to interfere? Why couldn't they just stay away? If only they wouldn't turn around to see - _

_"Harry!" cried Ron frantically, leaping dangerously over the railing and tiptoeing across the structure like he was balancing on the branches of a high tree._

_"No, Ron, go away! It's too dangerous."_

_"Don't talk rubbish! We're going to get you out of here!"_

_Harry groaned as he saw that Hermione had followed Ron. She managed to steer herself to his other side and both of them held out their hands._

_"You won't be able to keep your balance after you pull me up!" Harry said. "Just let me go! Rescue yourselves!"_

_"No, Harry!" said Hermione frantically. "We're going to get you out of here! It's over, isn't it? Voldemort - "_

_"Yes, I killed him. Isn't that what you all wanted? NOW LET ME GO!"_

_"Harry, what the devil's wrong with you?" said Ron. "GET HOLD OF MY HAND!"_

_"You don't understand!" Harry shouted back. "I've seen them. I've seen all of them. I just want to be with them. I did what everyone wanted now let me go!"_

_"Harry, you know we won't do that!"_

_Hermione reached dangerously over to take hold of Harry's shoulder and tried to pull him up by force but Harry yanked it back._

_"You don't know what's happened! If you did, you'd know why I have to let go! Before Voldemort - before he died, he - "_

"Harry!"

Harry swallowed and looked up at Dumbledore.

"I can still see them all," he said quietly. "Sometimes I can't get them out of my head. Knowing that they're out there like that. I keep telling myself - " Harry stopped and looked down again. " - I don't know which is worse, knowing they're there or not - "

Dumbledore held up his hand again.

"One thing at a time, Harry. I understand what you're feeling. I can see them, too. I have for a very long time and I shall never forget them. And now I know," he smiled a little sadly, "as you will one day, though I hope not for a very long time to come - that I will be going to join them soon."

Harry's eyes widened.

"No, sir," he protested. "Y - you're still very strong and healthy and you're still the most powerful wizard ever. There's no way - "

Dumbledore only smiled, a smile that seemed to make Harry's own words die before they had reached his throat.

"Your eyes have already said what your tongue could not, Harry," he said simply.

Harry shook his head vigorously.

"But there must be some magic - "

"Perhaps there is. Voldemort tried to find it and you see what happened to him. I hope very much, Harry, that you have not forgotten the price we all paid for his search."

"Of course not," said Harry, with a sudden conviction that made even Dumbledore shudder. "How could I ever possibly forget?"

Dumbledore looked back at Harry for an uncertain moment and then sighed.

"Well then. I presume that you did not come all this way to dine on ashes. Perhaps we should save the details until after we've had the chance to sit down for a spot of tea but I fear I'm already curious as to what would trouble the vanquisher of the Dark Lord so much that he would be forced to seek the advice of a useless old man. Are there some stray Death Eaters on the move again, I wonder? Has the Ministry settled into worse than its usual chaos? Or perhaps," Dumbledore concluded with a mischievous smile, "the world has become so peaceful that you've little left on which to draw up your own lessons."

Harry looked down at his feet and shifted uncomfortably. He sighed and took a long pause.

"None of those things," he finally said, sighing himself. "Actually, sir, it's personal."

A/n This was originally supposed to be the first chapter of the story but i decided to put it at the end so it wouldn't give the end away! hope you enjoyed my stories! might be a third story but right now i need a break...


	29. Epilogue

Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**The End of the Beginning**

Dumbledore had built a verandah-like structure around his little hut at the center of the island. Judging from the elaborate pictures he had conjured onto its beams, Harry guessed it was something Chinese. His attention was momentarily distracted by a small disturbed cry. He looked down to a patch of earth just beyond the verandah only to find that a small garden snake had all but swallowed an even smaller frog. Harry winced and felt the remains of his breakfast shift uncomfortably in his abdomen. He was about to turn his head away from the snake who now sat lazily coiled under a patch of sun when he saw another frog, identical in size and type to the first, emerge out of thin air just beside the snake. It eyed its larger predator cautiously for a moment and then hopped quickly away into the undergrowth.

"Remarkable, isn't it?" said a voice at his side. "You see why I must make sure no one finds me here."

Harry looked up to see that Dumbledore had returned with a small tea set that seemed to match the Chinese motif of the verandah. He laid it gently down on the table in front of them and then sat down. Harry couldn't help but notice the older man's hands trembling as he tried to hold the teapot and pour some of its contents into Harry's cup.

"Here, let me hold it, sir," he said.

"Not _sir_, Harry."

"Sorry, I forgot."

Dumbledore smiled. "And I think I can manage. It isn't often I get visitors after all. Now, tell me then, Harry," he added as he finished pouring both cups. "What brings you all this way to sit down and chat with a very old man? You said it was something personal?"

Harry immediately felt a little embarrassed.

"I - I'm sorry, sir. I know you said I wasn't to bother you unless it was very important. It's just - well, it's about my daughter."

"Your daughter," repeated Dumbledore. "Yes, I remember now. No, I don't," he decided. "What was her name?"

"Siosia."

"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore, holding a finger in the air. "Siosia. That was it. Very unusual name. Elfish, if memory serves me correctly. It means 'The New Becoming.' You named her after Ginny's young friend as I recall?"

"Yes, that's right," said Harry.

"Good." Dumbledore smiled. "It seems I haven't lost quite as many of my faculties as I'd feared. And how is her namesake these days?"

"I think she's an elder now, sir - sorry, _Professor_. The elves age much faster than we do. But Ginny still goes out to the village to see her from time to time."

"And they won't let you into the village?"

"No, I don't think they'll let anyone in anymore. No other wizards, that is. Only Ginny. And Siosia; _our_ Siosia, I mean."

Dumbledore nodded. His features darkened for a moment but then he turned to Harry and smiled again.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he said. "I interrupted you. Please continue; about your daughter. Let's see." He frowned. "She should be - my, it won't be long now before she's old enough to start at Hogwarts, I expect."

"She's just started this year actually. I was sitting at the staff table when she was sorted. That was last weekend."

"Goodness me, how time flies. Sorry and so, what seems to be the problem?"

"Well, that's just it, Professor. She - she - well, she was sorted into - into Slytherin."

Harry glanced cautiously up at Dumbledore. He expected his former Headmaster to frown, perhaps even go very pale, especially when he considered the dire implications of this news, but Dumbledore continue to smile at him benignly.

"Go on," he said.

"I - I don't think you could have heard me correctly, sir."

"Merlin, I daresay probably not. I never hear anything very well these days, but I thought I heard you say that your daughter had been sorted last week into Slytherin house. Pray forgive me if I was mistaken."

"That's right, yes."

"And so?"

"Well, I mean - I don't know how she could ever have gotten in there. I'm worried - well, Ginny and I are both worried - I mean, do you remember when Voldemort - well, we thought maybe something of his essence might still be living inside me and maybe somehow I passed it on to Siosia. I mean - "

But Dumbledore was already shaking his head.

"I don't think so, Harry," he said. "Voldemort is gone and everything that was a part of him went with him. It's true that he passed along some of his essence to you. That is why you can speak Parseltongue. You may have other abilities besides that but as I often used to tell you, Harry, it is the choices we make that define who we are, not some inborn essence. Nor is sorting based on genes."

"But all of the Weasleys were in Gryffindor; and the Malfoys, for generations they were in Slytherin."

Dumbledore nodded. "It's true, Harry. Children sometimes follow their parents but that is because of the way they were raised."

"We never raised Siosia like that!" said Harry, a little angrily. "We always told her - "

"That Slytherin was an evil house full of dark wizards. For her sake, I hope you didn't, Harry."

"Well - "

"Tell me: what are the qualities you admire the most in your daughter."

"Well." Harry thought for a moment. "There are lots of things I - she's honest, not like a Slytherin; she works very hard; she's good to her friends a - and brave; she never backs away from anything, even if it gets her."

"It seems to me that you've managed to describe the positive qualities of all four of the houses."

"Well, yes, but - "

"Tell me, Harry. Is she perhaps a little ambitious?"

Harry thought for a moment. "No," he decided. "Not like a Slytherin anyway."

"I see. Then let me put it another way: does she have a desire to prove herself?"

Harry hesitated. "Yes, she does," he said slowly. "I mean, it's not easy being her."

Dumbledore nodded. "The only daughter of the Boy and Girl Who Lived has a large set of shoes to fill, don't you think?"

"Maybe, but we never - I mean, we never _pushed_ her or anything."

"Yet she knows who you are. And believe me, Harry," Dumbledore added with a twinkle in his eye. "If she's anything like her parents then it wouldn't take very much."

Harry let Dumbledore's words sink in for a moment.

"So you think she was sorted into Slytherin because of us, but not because - I mean - that's an awful thing to think of really."

"Is it, Harry?"

"Well, yes. I mean, if what you're saying is true, then even without meaning to, we pushed her along a path that could lead her to become a dark wizard."

"And why is that?"

"Well, she's in - she's in Slytherin, isn't she? Look, could we - I mean isn't there some way we could undo this? There's been a mistake. She doesn't belong there!"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Harry. Not even I could do that and I wouldn't want to, either. But something you say surprises me. Are there many dark wizards still in Slytherin?"

"Well, I don't know, I - "

"Really, aren't you the Defense Against the Dark Arts Master?"

"Y - yes, but, I don't - I mean I only see them as students. I don't know if they - "

"Ah." Dumbledore raised a finger to the air again. "And who is the head of Slytherin house at the moment? Counselo Harmon isn't still there, is he?"

"Counselo retired four years ago. The head of Slytherin house now is Peter Hall. He was the Keeper for the Slytherin Quidditch team when I was a student; he was a year below me."

"Oh, yes, how well I remember. And is he a dark wizard, Harry?"

"Well, no."

"If I remember correctly, wasn't he part of the group led by Professor McGonagall to lead the ill-fated raid on this lake?"

"Yes," said Harry slowly.

Dumbledore paused. "If you don't mind my saying, Harry, it doesn't seem there are many dark wizards still about."

Harry looked back at Dumbledore. It seemed his old headmaster could still manipulate a conversation to his own ends. But Harry wasn't going to let this die so easily.

"But we can't let our guard down, can we? I mean, evil can come from anywhere. That's what Ron's always saying, anyway."

"Precisely, Harry. And it seems you are still looking to find it from just one place. I wonder if you know much of the history of the Dark Lord Grindelwald."

"No," said Harry, a bit sheepishly, knowing full well it was Dumbledore who'd defeated him. "I'm afraid History of Magic was never my strong point."

"You do not know, for instance, which house he belonged to?"

"I - I assumed he was in Slytherin. Didn't Voldemort always admire him?"

"Indeed he did, Harry. But Grindelwald was in Ravenclaw and for a time, even well after his demise, I'm afraid the house had a very bad reputation. Ravenclaws were seen as being _too _clever, arrogant even, like a race of super-wizards believing themselves to be smarter than everyone else. Oh, yes, Harry," he added, as he read the look of surprise on the younger wizard's face. "The same themes often emerge in different disguises. Only when we understand that evil can germinate anywhere, even in our own hearts, can it truly fail to take us by surprise. No, Harry, there is nothing wrong with your daughter and I wish her and you the best of success."

Harry didn't reply right away. This wasn't really the answer he'd been hoping for. He was still skeptical and he was sure that Ginny would be even more skeptical than he was, but he had to admit it that talking to Dumbledore had made him feel a little bit more comfortable about the whole thing. He'd just never thought of his own daughter - the daughter that he and Ginny had raised with all of the love and care they shared with each other - would turn out to end up in Slytherin. He looked up at Dumbledore again and found the old wizard smiling back at him.

"Listen to me, Harry," he said. "Mistakes are just as easily made from the intransigence of age as the recklessness of youth. I believe you and your friends may have taught me that once upon a time. It wouldn't do you well to forget the lesson now, would it?"

Harry sighed. "No," he said. "I suppose not."

"Good," said Dumbledore brightly. "That settles that then. Tell me, Harry, how is Ginny?"

Harry felt a feeling of warmth mount in his heart as he heard her name spoken, even now, even after they'd been married all these years.

"She's - she's wonderful," he said. "She's stubborn, strong-willed but gentle and kind and understanding all at the same time. I - I - I'm a very lucky wizard, I suppose."

"I rather think you may have had some luck coming to you, Harry."

"Yes, yes, I suppose so."

"Actually, I wondered how Ginny was _doing_, though," said Dumbledore, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, oh, right, sorry. She's fine. She's - she's still working at the Ministry. Magical Beasts Relations Office. Hermione and her group lobby them all of the time."

"And I take it she has a sympathetic ear?"

"Yeah, I think S.L.E.D. get most of whatever they want, at least if Ginny has anything to say about it."

Harry frowned for a moment.

"I still wonder though, sir - whether Ginny - well, I mean - "

"You worry she might go up in a puff of smoke one day?"

"Yeah, well, something like that."

Dumbledore shook his head again. "If she would have, it would have been a long time ago. She'll be in this world as long as you, Harry; perhaps even longer. You should have faith in your father as I told you long ago."

Harry nodded but frowned again.

"I still think about them. I mean my Dad and Mum and Sirius. Ginny came back but - well, sometimes I still feel a bit responsible and I still miss them."

"You'd be a very callous person not to, Harry," said Dumbledore gently, "but try to remember that many more lives would have been lost if it weren't for you and Ginny, as would their very souls have been also."

Harry nodded again.

"Tell me, how is Ron doing? Is he still an Auror?"

"Yeah, he just got transferred to a desk job at the Ministry, a little bit like the one Professor Nevins used to have. Hermione's relieved; I suppose I am, too."

"Please congratulate him for me, will you? I know it hasn't always been easy for him."

Harry nodded. "He was two years late starting. I remember how happy he was when he finally made it into Auror training on the third try. Then he took a lot of slack for how much older he was, but he didn't give up."

Dumbledore sighed lightly. "You know why Minerva wouldn't write him that letter, I hope. It wasn't because she didn't think he would be a fine Auror. She would have had to tell the truth about what happened on that mission so many years ago."

"I know," said Harry. "I think Ron knows, too, deep down."

"And you still keep in touch with your old friends?"

Harry smiled a little reflectively.

"We have our Sunday afternoon drink at the Three Broomsticks. And sometimes I go up to London for things; if I'm not busy, I always stop in the Ministry and sometimes we go to lunch. Ron's come to talk to my class before, too."

"Every Sunday?" asked Dumbledore.

"_Every _Sunday," said Harry, with a slight bit of conviction.

Harry looked at his cup of tea and then drank the rest of the contents. Dumbledore moved to pour more into his cup but Harry waved him away with his hand.

"I'm sorry, Professor," he said, "but I think I'd better be getting back to Ginny now. She's waiting with Siosia on the other side of the forest. I expect I've kept you long enough anyway."

But Dumbledore looked a little old and sad.

"I understand, Harry," he said. "But do come back to see me sometime. And bring Ginny and your wonderful daughter with you. I fear in my self-importance I may have isolated myself a little too much."

"I will," Harry promised.

Dumbledore got to his feet. "Come with me; I'll see you off."

"Are you sure, Professor?"

"Yes, Harry, I'm afraid so. I'm the only way off this island. Another little defense."

Harry nodded. He walked behind Dumbledore slowly, trying not to appear impatient, as the old headmaster made his way over to the edge of the island and the small makeshift raft. It wasn't all that long before he had pushed away from the shore and Harry found himself heading back toward the forest at the south end of the lake where he'd first arrived and where long ago he and the others had made their escape. He could just about make out where the newer trees had grown from the day when the improbable tidal wave had raged up from the shore to crush them, but that was the only untoward sign that anything violent had ever taken place on this seemingly tranquil lake. He looked back at Dumbledore and gave a small start when he realized he'd returned to his myocorp disguise.

"Precautions, Harry," said the myocorp in Dumbledore's voice.

They continued their passage to the far end of the lake. Harry got to his feet; fearing the old man's frailty, he resisted Dumbledore's attempts to hold onto his arm and steer him safely away from the raft to the shore, but once he had planted his feet steadily enough on the muddy bank, Harry looked back at the headmaster one more time.

"I must be off," said the myocorp. "It's not good for me to remain away from the island for long. Every now and then I have to rescue a myocorp or a goblin - even the odd Muggle child - who's lost himself staring into the lake, but I usually try to return as quickly as possible."

Harry nodded. "Thank you," he said. "I think this has helped."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm glad to hear that a tea-drinking old man can still occasionally be of use." He looked at Harry curiously. "I wonder, though, Harry, if you wouldn't mind satisfying my curiosity on one last simple matter."

"Certainly."

The myocorp peered at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Are you happy, Harry?"

Harry stared at Dumbledore for a moment. This was not the question he'd been expecting. He thought for a moment: _was_ he happy? He'd come to visit the headmaster in an anxious frame of mind: the demons and nightmares of his past had been given new life by his present worries, but did that make him unhappy? Wasn't he only anxious because he was afraid that Voldemort would return, in one form or another, and destroy the life he had come to love? Ginny's face suddenly appeared before his eyes, then Siosia's, then his parents standing in front of him somewhere up there beyond the gateway. He thought of his students, of his work, of his Sunday afternoons with Hermione and Ron. Even the horrible pain and loss he had known in his life, while no less painful, had led him to everything for which he was now so grateful. Harry slowly looked up and nodded.

"Good," said Dumbledore. "That is all I really needed to know. I hope we'll see each other again, soon, Harry. Until then, you have my sincerest wishes for continued happiness."

Dumbledore turned the small raft around and slowly began to punt it out into deeper waters. He did not turn around again.

Harry knew that he had to be going but he found himself watching as Dumbledore maneuvered the raft further out into the lake, finally fading almost but not completely from sight. He felt a sudden tug on his hand and looked down at the wizard ring which was tied next to his wedding band. They hadn't been connected when he'd been on Dumbledore's island. Now, Harry could sense Ginny's anxiousness. He tried to feel his own calm into the ring, soothing her feelings just as they had both comforted each other so many times in the thirteen years since they'd first been joined, chasing the phantom shadows that still sometimes haunted them both long before they were ever allowed to loom too high in their lives. Harry wanted to return to tell Ginny what Dumbledore had said, to try to calm her more, to persuade her to give Siosia a chance in Slytherin just as Dumbledore had suggested. He turned his eyes away from Dumbledore and started to walk up the hill away into the forest.

But something made him stop and turn around. Something that Dumbledore had said to him. He walked slowly back to the water and looked at his reflection one last time.

Could it really be? Could the small boy who had once peered into the Mirror of Erised to look at the reflection of himself standing next to his parents really have achieved the happiness that Dumbledore had told him about all those many years ago? When he first came to the edge of the lake, he'd assumed the magic had been faulty or that Dumbledore had altered the charm somehow, but now it seemed that was not the case.

He looked down into the water more closely, but nothing had changed. There he was - just him, just as he was - Harry Potter - with all the joy and pain that had ever been visited upon him: the black-rimmed glasses; the once untidy now receding hairline; and even the familiar jagged lines of his lightning bolt scar.


End file.
